XI. Jamais je ne t'oublierai

Aramis saw Gino's look as soon as he laid eyes on the newcomer, but didn't dare to ask about it. Instead, he leaned onto Porthos' shoulder, and tried to stand up as straight as possible.

"And who is that now?" Lucien asked impatiently, throwing an annoyed look towards the man dismounting the warhorse.

Arthur sent Lucien a warning glare and after exchanging a quick look with Porthos, who was making Aramis sit back down again, he made a step forward to greet the man.

"Sir." He bowed his head as a greeting. "At your service. Lucien, may I introduce you to General Suard. Commander in charge of the musketeer regiment."

If it were possible the tension in the air grew even stronger as General Suard dismounted his horse and handed the reins to Arthur.

Without further words, he took a look at the situation and merely raised an eyebrow. "Not exactly what I expected to find. What's going on here?"

Lucien slightly bowed his head, acknowledging the general's rank, however, his tone of voice still lacked the respect that might have been appropriate.

"We were just discussing with these musketeers what should be done to meet our needs, which have been totally ignored since we arrived here."

General Suard narrowed his eyes, and then just slightly inclined his head. "I assume you are the habitants of Cévry?"

Lucien nodded, and Suard turned away to face Arthur again, who had handed the general's horse over to another man.

"Who has led the said operation? Somebody must've been in charge here during the absence of a commanding officer."

Arthur lowered his gaze. "Sir, due to Captain Tréville's orders, the musketeers Athos, Aramis and Porthos were authorized to take the temporary command over the musketeer regiment."

Suard shot Gino a quick glance, but then he just raised an eyebrow. "I want to speak with them."

Aramis and Porthos had been silent observers so far but now Porthos cleared his throat and spoke up. "Sir, I'm Porthos. This is Aramis." He nodded into Aramis' direction with his head.

Aramis bowed his head slightly as a greeting, his knuckles whitening as he tightly gripped the stone he was sitting on.

"And the third one?" Suard asked matter-of-factly, not looking too impressed.

"In the medic's tent, sir," Gino spoke up. His face was a mask of stone. "He was injured when he helped to bring the civilians out of the village."

Suard didn't bestow him as much as a glance. "I see." He turned to the civilians. "You will receive food and water soon, and the musketeers will prepare a corner for you to sleep. The tents are limited and reserved for urgent matters only."

For some reason, Lucien did not argue with Suard. Quite possibly due to the authority the man radiated.

"And you three," he said as he eyed Aramis, Porthos and Arthur intensely, "in the commander's tent; I need to be informed." He made a short pause. "I assume it's the one over there?" He pointed towards the said shelter, and Arthur confirmed it.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Suard slowly brushed past Gino, and Aramis could just make out the comment the general growled under his breath. "In your tent, medic, and return to your post. Don't stand in my way."

As Aramis and Porthos limped past Gino, Aramis raised a questioning eyebrow, but Gino politely ignored him. Aramis noticed that he didn't go back to the medic's tent, instead, he was rooted on the spot, apparently frozen by his own thoughts.

Porthos and Aramis tried their best to keep up with Suard and Arthur, but Aramis was moving painfully, and instantly regretted having joined the discussion in the first place.

"I could get you back to the medic's tent," Porthos suggested in a low voice. "If I were you, I'd take the chance to escape from this…" He shot a questioning look towards Suard. "…meeting."

Aramis gritted his teeth and shook his head, the only answer he could manage at the moment. Porthos growled something incomprehensible, but continued helping Aramis towards the commander's tent.

Once they arrived there, the general was already awaiting them with impatience. His hands rested on the desk with the map, his fingers drumming on the hard surface and Aramis could see that he was full of skepticism.

Arthur was standing in front of the table, nervously rocking his body back and forth, his hands folded behind his back. It was the posture of a soldier in front of a high ranking officer, and Arthur clearly did not know yet what to think of the general.

Aramis had never heard of General Suard, which meant that the man either hadn't yet been responsible for many victories, or Aramis was simply not that well informed about the higher ranking commanders. He was curious to learn more about the man, but he wanted to do so without calling attention to himself.

Porthos took his place at Arthur's side, folding his hands behind his back. Aramis attempted to do the same on Arthur's other side, but the general intervened.

"Sit," Suard said, his eyes locked on Aramis and pointing towards his leg. It was an order, not a suggestion. He motioned towards the small table near the tent's entrance.

Aramis hesitated for a split second, then he limped over and leaned against the surface which took the weight off his injured limb. He sighed in relief.

"So," Suard started, his voice devoid of any emotion. "Commander Décart told me to take the command over the regiment for as long as this island is besieged. You are the musketeer regiment, right? I was told you were forty-two men."

Arthur nodded. "Now, we're only forty. Fifteen cadets, twenty-five musketeers."

Suard raised an eyebrow. "Two casualties already?" He huffed. "Wasting no time I see." The dismissive comment raised an unexpected anger in Aramis, but he was careful not to let any comments slip. The general looked at Porthos now. "Go on, report."

Porthos nervously cleared his throat. "We were sent here as reinforcements. Captain Tréville sent us to La Rochélle first, but the king moved us to Ré Island to support Commander Décart against the invasion of the Duke of Buckingham."

Suard nodded knowingly. "That's why there was no time to worry about authorities. Buckingham didn't take us by surprise, but he still has a lot of men." He made a short pause and straightened up, locking his eyes on Aramis.

"You, Aramis, is it?"

Aramis looked up and raised his chin. "Yes, sir."

"Tell me what the civilians are doing here."

It was a simple request, but Aramis chose his words very carefully. "During our patrol, we discovered the village of Cévry. An English troop was heading right towards it. Not knowing how the English would react, we tried to persuade the civilians to evacuate." He quickly rearranged his thoughts. "The English troops belong to Lord Eadmund, a general in Buckingham's service."

Suard raised an eyebrow. "The Butcher of La Rochelle? I've heard of him."

"He's occupying the area near Cévry," Aramis explained tiredly. "The civilians did not want to leave their homes., but as soon as the first shots were fired, they complied. We evacuated them and chased the English back to Saint-Blanceau."

"Who gave the order to evacuate the citizens out of Cévry?" Suard asked, with a hint of mistrust in his voice, eyeing the assembled men critically.

"I did."

It was a voice Aramis would recognize even in the midst of a battlefield. He turned around, and there, with his arm pressed against his chest and a slightly crooked posture, was none other than Athos.

Athos had awoken about ten minutes earlier in the medic's tent. The other wounded had been fast asleep, but Guillaume had been guarding them and had insisted that Athos stay exactly where he was.

It had taken Athos barely a minute to decide otherwise and, despite his dizziness, he had risen from his place on the ground and carefully made his way towards the tent's exit. He hadn't been able to spot Aramis or Gino anywhere, that's why he had decided to go look for them. Though he had known it was better to avoid Gino if he wanted to get anything done.

His back ached with each step he made, but he didn't think anything was broken. His left arm dangled uselessly at his side, and the world continued to spin before his eyes, but all in all, he felt it could have been worse.

He now carefully made his way towards the commander's tent from whence loud voices could be heard. The rest of the camp was eerily silent. It was almost unsettling.

On his way, he passed a few musketeers, who were all staring at the entrance of the tent. His world spinning dangerously, Athos came to a halt in front of Théo.

"Théo, what is going on in there?" Athos demanded to know.

Théo jumped when he heard Athos' voice, and by the look he was giving Athos, he was full of doubt whether he was authorized to say something or not.

"The general," he answered briefly, as if that would answer all of Athos' questions.

"General?" Athos repeated slowly. Guillaume only told him that the attack on Cévry had been yesterday, so he had been out for most of the day and night. "I don't remember anything after Cévry."

Théo looked up, Athos clearly had been able to get his attention, and opened his mouth in surprise. "General Suard. Sent here by the order of Commander Décart."

Athos nodded. That was all the information he needed so far.

"He's in there," Théo continued, his voice low as if he was scared someone would listen. "Together with Aramis, Porthos and Arthur."

Athos grunted and headed towards the tent's entrance, where he hesitated for a moment. He didn't even know whether he was authorized to disturb whatever they were discussing in there. He was equal in rank to Aramis and Porthos, but apparently, they no longer were in charge of the musketeers.

He heard Aramis, who sounded very tired, explaining the situation in Cévry. Athos could hear that his friend was trying to justify their decisions, though Athos didn't think it was necessary. It was kill or be killed, and the civilians didn't want to leave on their own. Athos was convinced that they had done the right thing. However, Commander Decart and the general could have a different opinion about that.

"…who gave the order to evacuate the citizens out of Cévry?" he heard the general's voice and that was the moment Athos decided to step in.

"I did." With a face that gave away no emotion, he faced the general and quickly let his gaze swerve over the man to get a first impression. A tall man, staring at him with a mixture of disgust and curiosity. He wore a silver harness, and a huge, white coat was slung around his shoulders. There were some scrapes in the metal, and it hadn't been cleaned for a while now. He sported a scar all the way from his jawline down to his neck. He threw his chest out, and held his head up high, probably in an attempt to intimidate the soldiers in front of him, or to mark his higher rank.

So, all in all, an experienced general, proud, ambitious, dutiful, and not in favor of Commander Décart, as it was common knowledge he and Décart disliked each other. At least, that's what Athos was able to tell after almost a minute.

Athos made an unsteady step forward, careful not to show how shaken he still felt, or how disoriented he really was.

He could feel Arthur's, Porthos' and Aramis' stares on him, but the only one he truly registered was Suard. The man straightened up, and stayed very composed.

"I assume you are Athos?" It was more a statement than it was a question.

Athos nodded. "Yes, sir. And I was the one who gave the order to evacuate the civilians to this fortress." That, technically, wasn't true. It had been one of their wordless communication decisions, none of them had spoken it out aloud, but they all had silently agreed that an evacuation would be the best solution under the given circumstances.

Athos caught Porthos' look, and noticed how he opened his mouth to protest, but Athos gave him a slight shake of the head. He was not trying to claim all the glory for himself. He was trying to direct the blame towards himself. Athos could see the general's look, and he had immediately known that what they had done in Cévry was a decision he opposed

Porthos rolled his eyes at Athos and straightened up nevertheless. "Sir, it was a mutual decision. The three of us agreed that it is a musketeer's duty to keep the French civilians safe. That's why…" He cleared his throat. "Well, that's why we did what we did."

Suard's jaw tightened and for a moment, he looked at Porthos with so much disgust that Athos feared it would result in a physical fight, but the general seemed to remember his position and his restrictions. That was exactly the moment Aramis decided to jump in.

"Sir, it was the only reasonable choice." He took in a deep breath. "The only human choice."

"Then I have to tell all three of you that perhaps, you should have waited for the order to do so. The commander told me our most important priority is to defeat Buckingham by any means necessary. Our military activities, our men and how long they can make a stand on this island, have to be the most important aspect of this siege." A disappointed growl escaped his lips. "Now, you musketeers acted against this goal in evacuating the village, however, I understand your motives, even though I would have acted otherwise. You do know there's a chance that Buckingham would have left Cévry in peace?"

Aramis' eyes widened, and Athos could see that this was no longer Aramis the obedient soldier, but Aramis the musketeer. "This is Buckingham we are talking about!" he injected. "Sir," he added through clenched teeth when Athos shook his head warningly.

"I'm aware." The tone in the general's voice was cold and distanced. And his words were a hidden warning towards the musketeer.

Athos could see Aramis' look of disapproval, but the marksman didn't say anything more. Perhaps he didn't dare to in front of the General.

"Sir, with all respect, I believe it's crucial that we concentrate on our next steps, not on our past ones." Athos made a step forward. "We need to plan how to deal with Lord Eadmund, and we need to plan our resources considering that now we have more mouths to feed."

"Is that so?" Suard asked and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't argue. Instead, he slowly straightened up. "Then what do you suggest, Athos?"

"Patrols," Athos stated carefully. "Mark and secure as much of our territory as possible. If we use this fortress as last hideout already, why bother to fight them at all?" He leaned onto the chair for support as a wave of dizziness hit him. Suard noticed it, but he said nothing. He just raised a questioning eyebrow.

"We should built more hideouts for our men, and expand our territory border beyond this wall. I know this is French soil, but at the moment, there could be English soldiers everywhere outside of this fortress. That needs to be changed. We should have patrols formed in order to scout the environment and expand our defences."

"There might be a few civilians left out there, a few farmers working near a barn not far from here. I believe we owe it to them to keep them safe as well," Aramis suggested.

Suard rounded the table and leaned against it, his arms folded in front of his chest. "But you only get to make suggestions, Aramis, I give the orders. However, since we already have the civilians in here, we might as well save all of them. Athos, I want you to make a plan for me concerning the men we will send out to the barn. Aramis, organize the patrols your comrade suggested." He finally laid eyes on Porthos. "And Porthos, you will check the resources we have, and how long they are going to hold with all the people we have in here now."

The three men nodded, and it was Arthur who spoke up again.

"Sir, after the last battle with the English, our men are exhausted." He didn't even try to explain their situation any further. The look on Suard's face told them everything they needed to know.

"The medic will assess who is fit for duty and who isn't," he said, and Athos noticed how forced the word 'medic' sounded out of his mouth. "You have your tasks. Dismissed."

Athos bowed his head, and his friends did so as well with a little delay. Athos had already turned around to leave the tent, grateful to escape the general's eyes, when Arthur spoke up again, his voice shaking slightly.

"Sir, one thing. One of our men is missing. The musketeer Mathis volunteered to scout the area around the fort, as we had no information about Buckingham's troops until yesterday."

Suard arched an eyebrow. "Now that I am here, there's no need. If the musketeer doesn't find his way back, I fear there's nothing we can do. He is either in captivity or dead."

Arthur bravely met his superior's gaze. "Sir, we have to look for him."

Suard's look, if Athos saw it correctly, softened. "I understand your concern, however this is no personal decision, but a strategic one. I cannot afford to risk more musketeer lives for the sake of one."

Arthur bit his lip, then he bowed his head and turned to leave as well. Porthos helped Aramis walk, and Athos carefully put one foot in front of the other as he left the tent side by side with Arthur, leaving the general on his own.

"He clearly doesn't know us," Arthur mumbled under his breath, so that only the other three could hear him. "He doesn't know the musketeer motto."

Athos shook his head. "No. But we have to operate the way he wants. We have no choice."

As I was walking by the clear fountain,
I found the water so lovely I had to bathe.

The words of the song softly echoed through the northern part of the fortress, as the sun started to set again. Athos, Aramis, Porthos and Arthur sat around a small campfire near the medic's tent, with Gino watching them carefully from his place at the tent's entrance. The song came from the musketeer Théo, who had offered to take care of the civilians. One woman had a child with her, not older than three, and it had been crying for the past two hours. Athos had learned to block out the noises he didn't want to hear, but apparently, the others hadn't. So Théo, who had just become a father a few months ago, had taken it upon himself to take care of the young child. His singing voice was strained by all the yelling he had done the past few days, but it was still pleasant to hear.

Porthos was slowly putting some crushed herbs on the cut above his eye, under Arthur's watchful gaze. He grimaced, but that was all the reaction to the pain he allowed himself to show.

Aramis, who had finally cleaned the dried blood from his hands and neck, was lying on the ground, his hat pulled over his face, and his injured leg sprawled in an awkward angle.

Athos, pale as a ghost, had dark circles under his eyes and was silently brooding over a cup of water he was holding with his uninjured arm as he stared into the orange-red tongues of the fire.

Under the oak's leaves, I lay and dried.
On the highest bough, a nightingale sang.

"Didn't know we had such a musical talent amongst us," Arthur joked and threw a quick glance towards where Théo was seated next to the child. The mother sat next to him with the hint of a smile on her face, carefully drinking some broth she had been handed.

Aramis, barely moving, snorted. "It's a children's song. Even you must know it."

Arthur raised his eyebrow. "You mean because of all the children I have?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, and Aramis just managed a wave with the hand.

"He's calming the child. And, let's be honest, he's calming down us too," Porthos said with the hint of a grin on his face.

Sing, nightingale, sing, you of the joyous heart.
Your heart is made for laughing... mine can only cry.

"Did you plan the patrols?" Arthur asked, addressing Aramis, who looked like he was barely participating in the conversation at all. His mind was clearly elsewhere.

"I gave the general my recommendations," the marksman answered tiredly, his eyes still shielded by his hat. "Athos helped me work out a plan."

Athos' eyes wouldn't be diverted from the fire, but he raised an eyebrow. "I was surprised you two had no objections."

Porthos shrugged. "Trust me, if I believed your suggestions would lead to our certain doom, you would be the first to know."

Athos barely moved. "How considerate of you."

Porthos saluted agreeably and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Concerning the supplies, we're running straight into a major problem. However, the general didn't want to listen."

Athos looked up, and even Aramis' head tilted slightly to the left, indicating both of them were listening attentively. "What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

Porthos sighed. "As expected, with the civilians under our protection, the supplies will barely cover two weeks, even if we pay attention and cut the rations. I spoke to Lucien, and he said there are still supplies left in the village."

Arthur huffed. "So, in the unlikely case that the English haven't raided Cévry, we could gather more supplies there?"

Porthos nodded. "We could. But Suard thinks the risk is too high. He doesn't want to risk the men."

For a moment, none of them answered, and the only thing disrupting the night was the soft voice of Théo.

I lost my love without deserving it,
Because of a rosebud I kept from him

Aramis pulled his hat up a little bit and lifted his head from the ground. "We could easily have one of tomorrow's patrols check it. But Suard knows that. What's holding him back?"

Porthos shook his head. "That's the question."

Athos provided them with an answer. "He thinks he's winning this battle with enough elite soldiers. With fighters. He doesn't take survival into account, he's not seeing that even elite soldiers cannot fight well when they are sick or hungry. It's not like we're on a damn island," he added sarcastically as he grimaced and pressed his hand against his head.

That's when Gino approached from behind, firmly grabbing Athos' by the shoulder. "You get back inside, you as well, Aramis." He sent a stern look towards the marksman who didn't show any reaction or indication that he had heard the medic. "I know you can't rest for the next few days, but at least take this night to recover. You two will be of no use in this condition." He used a harsher tone now, knowing it was the only one that could reach the two musketeers.

Aramis sighed, and Athos just scowled. Porthos watched both of them with a mixture of amusement and strictness.

I wish the roses were still on the bush,
And my sweetheart loved me still.

Suddenly, they heard loud noises from the gate. Arthur jerked in surprise, and all of them turned their heads towards where the turmoil had erupted.

"General!" a musketeer somewhere yelled through the fortress, and it was shortly followed by a loud scream and a gunshot somewhere else. Porthos jumped to his feet in an instant. Aramis cursed when his leg prevented him from doing the same and Athos much too slowly climbed to his knees. Gino tried to steady both injured musketeers, but his attention too was focused on the gate. Athos pushed the medic away, rose unsteadily to his feet, and took a step forward, narrowing his eyes.

General Suard emerged from the commander's tent, and headed straight to the gate.

"What's going on?" he bellowed at Guillaume, the musketeer in charge of guarding the gate.

"Civilians, sir, more of them. They're seeking shelter, but the English are on their heels!"

"Porthos," Athos merely said, and Porthos instantly understood. Neither Athos nor Aramis were able to head to the gate now, and neither of them could put up much of a fight. Porthos nodded at Arthur, and both of them ran over to the gate, just as more gunshots could be heard. Judging by the sound they made, they didn't penetrate the wood of the gate. Fists were hammered against the gate from outside.

"Let us in! Help us!"

"Don't open the gate," Suard ordered, and took over Guillaume's position. "How many English soldiers?"

"Only about two dozen, but it's cavalry, sir," Guillaume answered, his voice high-pitched with urgency and a trace of fear.

"That's my son! That's Robert!" The woman whose daughter Porthos had rescued suddenly cried out and ran over to the gate too, and she had to be restrained by Porthos and Arthur. "I know that voice! Open the gate!"

"Four civilians, sir," Guillaume reported rapidly. "If we open the gate now, I'm not sure we can hold the English outside."

"They'd be stupid to charge into our camp like that!" Porthos shouted at no one in particular, but Suard stayed calm and composed.

"At the moment, this gate is the only advantage we have!" he hissed and raised his hand.

Porthos left the woman to Arthur and made a step forward. "Sir, if we go outside, we might have a chance to shoot at the English and..."

"Nobody leaves this fortress!" Suard yelled. "And this fortress does not allow us to shoot at them from the inside. There is nothing we can do!"

Now, they all heard the sound of hooves from behind the wall, as well as the yelling from the civilians, who hammered their fists against the gate, screaming and cursing. Suard watched the whole scene with icy determination.

After a while, the sounds and shouts grew weaker and finally fell silent, as the horses disappeared into the forest again, the sound of hooves on the ground fading with each second that passed

"Killed, or taken?" Suard wanted to know. Guillaume peeked through a small hole in the fortress wall.

"Taken, sir."

Suard just nodded, turned on his heel and headed back to the camp. The woman was crying, Lucien was yelling and Arthur and Porthos were once again trying their best to keep the people at bay.

Athos and Aramis were frozen on the spot, both of them breathing heavily after Gino had to restrain them so they wouldn't run towards the gate. A small trace of blood ran down Athos' forehead and into his open eye. Aramis' leg gave in and he fell back to the ground.

The unsung last verse of the children's song hung in the air, as they all stared at each other with a mixture of anger, shock and apprehension.

I've loved you for so long, I will never forget you.

The song referred to here is a French children's song, à la Claire fontaine. It is dated back to early 17th century, which does not mean its usage here is historically accurate. Obviously, this is the English translation.

thank you to Jmp and Laureleaf for your kind reviews, I always enjoy reading them!

Happy New Year everyone. May your 2020 be filled with joy, happiness and kindness.