XV. Like One We Will Stand

Athos' hand carefully folded the piece of paper, completely ignoring that the ink was not dry yet, and he sealed the message neatly. Aramis had been writing the reports for Tréville in the past days, but Athos had insisted that Aramis get some rest and he had taken over. He was careful though not to give Tréville too much detailed information about internal matters. It was uncertain these letters would ever reach their destination, and should they fall into the wrong hands, it could mean their certain doom.

Athos grimaced as a bolt of pain shot through his injured arm, and he made a mental note to ask Aramis for help. He knew better than not to do anything, especially now that he had to be prepared to fight at a moment's notice.

Having finished writing the report, Athos exited the tent where they kept their gunpowder, and handed the letter to the cadet who was responsible for getting the information to the citadel. Athos and Aramis had had a long discussion about whether to tell Suard about these reports or not, and, in the end, they had agreed it would be better not to let anyone else know about it. At least for now.

"Athos, could you help me out with something?" The swordsman turned around to look for the source of the question, and he laid eyes on the musketeer Théo, who looked very worried, to state it lightly.

"What is it?." He narrowed his eyes. "Is there a problem?"

Théo frowned. "You could say so. Follow me."

Without waiting for Athos' response, the musketeer turned around and led his companion to the northern end of the fortress, where it bordered on a small beach and the ocean. Théo did not need to explain the problem, Athos could see it already.

Three of the wooden stakes that were bound together to form the shielding wall were not only loose, but out of place and revealing the calm waters beyond. Another one was missing completely.

"I noticed it this morning," Théo explained. "The General is already informed. He told me to take care of it, I was hoping you would help me."

Athos carefully moved the unsteady stakes, trying to find out just how loose they had become. "The English would not even have to try to infiltrate our camp," he commented, letting out a hissing breath. "How has nobody noticed yet?"

The uneven footsteps from behind announced the arrival of Aramis. He seemed to have just left the medic's tent, and the dark red stain on his hand told them he hadn't been idle. None of them was in a good mood under these circumstances, but Aramis' face looked exceptionally grim. With a tinge of nervousness.

"Gino woke up for more than five minutes," Aramis explained mildly once he noticed Athos' questioning look. His voice sounded numb. "Had some interesting stuff to tell."

Without elaborating further, he skeptically eyed the problematic part of the wall. "When in God's name did that happen?"

Théo shrugged. "I have no idea. It's either due to the weather or someone was careless."

"Or someone did it on purpose," Athos added grimly, voicing the possibility no one wanted to consider.

Aramis nodded. "I see. We should get to the other side, see the whole extent." He sounded distracted, and Athos noticed that, though he participated in the conversation, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Athos just calmly grabbed Aramis' shoulder and forced his friend to look at him. "What is it?"

Aramis indecisively bit his lip, but eventually shook his head and guided Athos a few steps back, out of Theo's hearing. "Not here, not now," he explained with a low voice, casting nervous glances towards the commander's tent. Athos followed his gaze and concluded that whatever Gino had said concerned the General.

His friend gently squeezed Athos' uninjured arm. "I'll fill you in later."

Athos understood, and he did not question Aramis' decision. He merely nodded and held the stakes in question aside to step through the hole in the wall. It was narrow, but he managed. He offered his friend his uninjured forearm to steady him while Aramis put his good leg through the gap first and squeezed through. Theo remained inside the fortress.

"Any Englishman our height wouldn't even have to try to infiltrate this fortress," Aramis stated worriedly, drawing in a sharp breath.

Athos grunted affirmatively. "If there is a traitor among us…," he hissed but Aramis put a hand up and carefully laid it on Athos' shoulder.

"Now, now, Athos," he admonished. "No need to assume the worst already." But the tone in his voice told Athos that Aramis was not foolish enough to ignore the possibility completely.

"I'll see if I can find any evidence around here," Athos said and turned on his heel, carefully inspecting the sparse grass and sand that led up to the cliffs and down to the shore on the other side. He kept his eyes out for footprints, or anything else that could indicate somebody had deliberately damaged their defenses. He could see a trail of footprints leading to the boat that was calmly floating in the shallow water, but it had to be their own from one of the many times Henri had carried their messages to the citadel.

"How is your arm?" Aramis asked casually, out of nowhere, as he closely eyed the ropes that held the wood together.

"Still attached."

He could almost feel Aramis' eye roll.

"Could be better," Athos admitted, one hand resting on his belt as he continued to scan the ground. Truth was, the two wounds on his arm were refusing to heal properly, and looked inflamed. Fortunately it was his left arm, because he could not use it to fight with anymore.

Aramis shot Athos a worried look, one the swordsman could not see because he had his back turned towards the wall. "Once this is dealt with, you come with me. You're looking rather…ghostly."

Athos raised an eyebrow, but did not turn to look at Aramis. "Ghostly?" he just repeated with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Yes," Aramis continued, though he was clearly occupied with inspecting the wall. "The paleness doesn't suit your grim face."

"I know that looks are high on your priority list, however, let me assure you they are fairly low on mine," Athos retorted absent-mindedly, and just heard Aramis' amused snort as an answer behind his back. For a short moment, it seemed between them as if the past weeks hadn't happened. As if Porthos hadn't happened.

The short moment of lightness disappeared rather quickly.

"We can reinforce this part with some leftover wood we did not use on the gate. I'll tell Theo and Arthur to bring it here, we should get this done as quickly as possible," Aramis suggested and turned to look at Athos.

The swordsman nodded. "I'll wait here, see if I can find out anything else."

He heard a confirming noise from behind, but didn't bother to turn around and watch Aramis squeeze through the gap once more.

Athos shook his head to dispel some of the dizziness that had crept into his head the past hour. The harsh wind of the past couple of days had eased down to a soft breeze, and it was announcing summer's farewell and the beginning of the colder season of the year.

Athos could hear some voices out of the fortress, but over the course of the past weeks, the noises of everyday routine had died down to a minimum. He was not yet sure whether to take comfort in that or not. The noises had reassured him that they were still alive. He knew that a lot of the men did not see how they were supposed to get out of here, but Athos refused to think that way. Instead, he constantly tried to work out more plans on how to reinforce their position, in the hope that Commander Décart would find a way to chase Buckingham off this island. Athos saw it as his duty, and kept thinking pragmatically instead of letting his own emotions flood his mind.

But he still understood where the other men's desperation was coming from, and yet they all shared a certain pride and stubbornness, and they refused to give the English an easy fight. Athos was still unsure what to think about Suard, mostly from a military point of view, though Aramis had been gracious enough to share his doubts about their commanding officer's integrity. But time would tell, and it was not as if they had a choice here.

A different noise caught Athos' attention. Apart from the soft whisper of the wind and the brushing of the shallow waves against the stone, he heard a dull movement, as if something heavier than a squirrel was stamping in the dirt. He narrowed his eyes as his gaze fell upon the line of trees not too far away from the fortress. He could be mistaken, especially due to the head injury that still troubled him at times, but he was sure he saw a flickering of light. One that was not supposed to be there.

Athos carefully retreated towards the damaged wall, his face turned towards the shore.

"Aramis!" he yelled into the fortress, but his warning got lost under another, very sudden and very loud noise.

"We're under attack!" a voice, unmistakably that of Théo, screamed. Then gunshots erupted and their world was downed in chaos.

Aramis heard the gunshots, and he immediately spun around to look toward the gate. That's when another salvo of gunshots hit the bound wood that was their gate and sent splinters flying in all directions.

The General emerged from one of the tents, unsheathing his sword with one hand and waving a loaded pistol in the other.

"Musketeers, half of you to the civilians, the other half to me, now!" he shouted over the ongoing noise of gunshots being fired. Aramis could see how the musketeers, scattered all over the fortress, hurried to obey the order, but it was more a muddling mess of screaming civilians and desperate soldiers trying to get to their commanding officer than it was an effective military maneuver. It didn't need a genius to see that Suard's orders were doing nothing to organize a defense. Still, Aramis wondered why the English were targeting the gate without coming closer to the fortress, when a sudden, horrific thought crossed his mind. One that Arthur shouted out aloud.

"Merde, Aramis, the wall, the wall!" the musketeer ran past Aramis and threw him his weapon belt. Aramis caught it with ease and hastily put it on, taking one pistol in each hand in the process.

"What are you doing?" he could hear Suard's voice behind him, but he did not pay much attention and acted as if he hadn't heard him. He had to see if the English knew about the wall.

He limped behind Arthur as fast as he could manage, only to hear fighting noises right from the other side of the wall. His heart dropped, and he hurried up and let Arthur drag him through the hole. His eyes darted around the area, looking for any sign of Athos.

He finally found his friend, who was being held in a choke-hold by a man in an English uniform, and without hesitating a second, Aramis took his aim and fired. The bullet hit the Englishman in the neck, and the man let go of Athos, who plunged his main gauche into the torso, as if to make sure Aramis had killed him.

The marksman meanwhile turned his head, and spotted the English troops coming up from the beach. They must have had taken a huge detour in order to approach from the other side, but the surprise effect was successful. Aramis fired his second pistol at one of the men charging at him, in the hope the General would realize what the English were doing, however, it had most likely gone unheard, and would have made no difference anyway.

Within moments, the English had spotted the weakness in the fortress wall and Athos, Aramis and Arthur, despite their best efforts, could do nothing but watch as they tore down another stake and started to enter the camp. Suard's answer in the form of gunshots followed closely. Aramis just prayed that they would manage a formation to protect everyone.

He sensed Athos' presence next to him, and the two of them simultaneously threw themselves into battle, without hesitating a second. They were both far from their best form, which is why they silently agreed to fight side by side, covering each other's weaknesses. Whenever Athos' left side was the target of an attack, Aramis intervened, and whenever it turned into a fast retreat, Athos made sure to draw the attention on himself so Aramis could limp backwards.

Aramis watched how Arthur took a nasty hit against the head, but before he was able to do anything, Athos came to the musketeer's aid and dealt with the attacker, smashing the hilt of his rapier hard against the soldier's temple. Aramis could see what Athos was trying to accomplish – prisoners. And he cursed, because he had not thought of it sooner. The image of Porthos possibly suffering the same fate burned itself deep into his mind.

Most of the English soldiers had already entered the fortress, and Suard's bellowed orders got lost under the ongoing turmoil of screaming civilians and guns being fired. Aramis' heart clenched with fear at the thought of the children running away from the armed men, and the wounded being exposed to the enemy blades.

He had caught the attention of another English soldier, and he parried the strike with the hilt of his pistol before he lashed out, catching the opponent in the lower chest. The Englishman merely bared his teeth and sent a series of strikes against Aramis' blade. The marksman parried them quickly, but he was forced backwards into a defensive position, exposing his injured leg to the enemy in the process. His opponent spotted the weakness and in an attempt to catch the assailing blade, Aramis swerved to the right. He lost his balance and landed hard on one knee, squeezing his eyes shut for the blow that had to follow, the blow he wouldn't be able to prevent.

But nothing.

"For God's sake, Aramis, this is not the time to take a nap," Athos' unmistakable growl reached his ears and he opened his eyes wide, only to see the Englishman on the ground, with Athos' dagger buried in his chest.

His friend came back to his side, and pulled him to his feet. Athos had retrieved his dagger, but his left arm was pressed tightly against his side. They exchanged a quick look and together they headed into cover behind a large rock. Aramis spotted Arthur around the corner of the fortress' walls, only a few feet away. He was down on one knee, his weapon aimed at another group of English soldiers entering the fortress through the hole.

"What're you waiting for?" Aramis yelled as he reloaded his weapons. "Shoot them!"

"I am trying, but I am seeing double here," Arthur retorted, angrily shaking his head to clear his vision.

Aramis merely threw him one of his own freshly reloaded pistols. "Gives you twice the chance of hitting something," he replied teasingly and fired his own shot. He felt Athos' hand on his shoulder and turned around. Athos' keen eyes were locked on the fortress before he finally diverted his gaze and looked straight at Aramis.

"Aramis, the fortress, we should…" But he did not need to continue.

"I know," the marksman cut in, tilting his head towards the fortress. "Lead the way."

Athos had passed the initial stage of surprise and desperation at being attacked so suddenly and so openly, and was now being driven by a different reaction – anger. It fueled him from head to toe as he stormed out of cover and headed towards the torn wall that had caused the unfortunate turn of events. The adrenaline running through his veins numbed the pain spreading through his arm.

He grasped the hilt of his sword even tighter as he entered the fortress.

Athos made sure Arthur and Aramis were able to follow him before he turned around and quickly took a second to assess the situation. About two dozen English soldiers were in the camp, and the musketeers, taken by surprise and seemingly without orders, were fighting on too many fronts.

Athos heard Aramis fire his pistol to his right and he heard the hissing bullet as the English replied just in time to avoid getting shot in the head. He kept a firm grip on his sword, but his left arm was completely useless. Though he was able to hold his parrying dagger, his grip was without any strength. One clash and he would lose it, so he only fought one-handed, knowing that Aramis would do his best to protect his left side.

Arthur tried his best to cover their backs, but both Athos and Aramis had more than a few close calls as English soldiers had approached from behind. Arthur did all he could, but the hole that Porthos' absence had torn not only in their minds, but also in their nonverbal bond was noticeable and worse, dangerous.

Aramis' sword cut through the upper chest of an English soldier and he threw him onto Athos' waiting blade. Another figure approached them, and Athos was ready to plunge his sword into the man's torso but he recognized him soon enough and lowered his weapon.

The musketeer Théo sported a deep cut on his cheek, and he was gasping for air as if he had run across the entire island.

Athos anxiously addressed him. "Théo, where's the General?"

"Knocked out by an English bullet," Théo reported breathlessly and blindly stabbed an English soldier behind his back, to prevent him from approaching the commander's tent, where Athos assumed they had taken Suard.

Athos exchanged a quick look with Aramis, who only raised a questioning eyebrow before he crossed swords with an assailing enemy. Athos knew that if they continued fighting like this, this would be their last stand.

"Aramis, take five marksmen and position yourself outside up on the cliffs with a clear sight to both the hole in the wall and the gate." It was a proposal, an idea, but Aramis did not question it. He nodded, finished off his opponent with a precise stab to the chest and clasped his hand around Athos' good arm.

"We'll await your signal."

Athos did not need to give further instructions. "You'll know what to do. Arthur!" and he turned in time to prevent a slightly confused Arthur from being shot in the back. "Arthur, go open the gate as widely as you can manage!"

Arthur threw him a puzzled look. "Why would I…?"

"Trust me," Athos insisted, looking into the musketeer's face to search for a sign of doubt, but Arthur just nodded, and turned on his heel to do as he had been told.

Athos then hurried towards the corner of the fortress, where the civilians had tried to escape, at least those who hadn't found a hiding spot. The English were clearly hesitant to attack them, however as soon as they spotted the musketeers, now in a somewhat military formation, shielding the civilians from the enemy, everybody seemed to forget all sense of morality. Athos could hardly hold it against them. It was easy to forget one's humanity on a battlefield.

The musketeers stood shoulder to shoulder, with Athos' in their middle and the civilians behind their backs, parrying the English swords with a newly found courage. Athos' was sent reeling backwards by a heavy blow from an English soldier, but thanks to their formation, he was covered by Théo and Guillaume until he managed to retake his position.

He shook the hair out of his face to clear his vision and out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Arthur had successfully opened the gate. It had been a risky move, but if the English had wanted to enter the fortress from the front, they could have done so, whether the gate was closed or open.

"Cover me," Athos instructed Guillaume and Théo before he broke formation and ran over to the commander's tent, where Arthur had retreated, knocking another English soldier unconscious as he ran.

"Athos, what on earth are you doing?" Arthur asked sharply, his eyes wide open with terror.

Athos merely grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him towards one of the tents where they kept their supplies.

"Get one of the gunpowder barrels out, I'll cover you," he said as he spotted an attacker charging towards him.

Arthur inhaled to question Athos' order, but Athos didn't have the time for it as his sword clashed hard against the enemy's steel.

"Now!" It almost sounded like a desperate plea. To his relief, Arthur disappeared into the tent with no more questions, and Athos focused on the duel. The Englishman was short, but very agile. An agility Athos could not match in his current state. He parried a series of strikes and lost his main gauche as one of the blows caught the smaller blade, which had been held uselessly in his weak hand. Athos stepped aside to protect his injured arm, but the Englishman was quick. He lashed out once more and Athos could feel the blade slice through his doublet on his left side. He hissed and stumbled backwards, tempting the opponent to attack once more, but as soon as the English soldier attempted to do so, Athos charged forward and buried his sword deep into the man's exposed shoulder.

Athos pulled the blade out just as Arthur reappeared, rolling the barrel in front of him. Athos put a hand on his bleeding side, but it did not seem to be too deep. He clenched his teeth. He had to keep his focus.

Athos gestured towards the hole in the wall, and he could almost hear the wheels turning inside Arthur's head as he was trying to comprehend what Athos wanted him to do. It took much too long but Arthur eventually nodded, and looked at his comrade with a knowing gleam in his eyes.

They positioned themselves on each side of the hole.

"On three," Athos instructed. "One, two…"

Three.

Together, they threw the barrel through the big hole in the wall, with barely enough force so it would not roll all the way down to the water. They immediately turned back and took cover behind the wall.

There was a little delay, and Athos was starting to worry that something had happened to Aramis and the others, or that they had not understood what he wanted them to do, but then he heard the hissing air and the sound of the exploding gunpowder reached his ears. He grinned. Aramis' aim had not abandoned them.

The sudden explosion had the desired effect. The English soldiers were startled and looked for the source, realizing that now, they were enclosed by musketeers on both sides, Athos, Arthur and some cadets near the hole in the wall and the big musketeer formation near the civilians on the other side.

The musketeers used the moment of surprise to their advantage and on Athos' signal, they started to advance in their formation, slowly but surely enclosing the English on one half of the fortress. With the fire of the explosion on the one side and calm and experienced musketeers on the other side, the English started to retreat towards the open gate, clearly not ready yet to give up so easily. They had the musketeers outnumbered after all. What they did not know however was that Athos had marksmen positioned outside the fortress.

As soon as the English forces had reached the gate, a hail of gunshots riddled the ground on which they were standing. Aramis had well understood Athos' intentions. The sudden attacks from unknown muskets was enough to break down what courage the English had left and leave nothing but panic. Some dropped their swords, others just screamed something incomprehensible before they all started to run, back into the forest from whence they had come.

It was a victory. But the past weeks had taught the musketeers enough, and they did not dare to feel victorious yet.