The Loss

Chapter 2

Christine found Etienne already working to prepare the infirmary. Two large pots were boiling and she threw a mixture of herbs into a large kettle to steep. Another combination she threw in another large pot while Etienne prepared the bandages and bathed the instruments.

"How many do you think?" she asked him as she tied back her hair and fastened an apron around her.

"Not sure," Etienne said. "It was large though. I ran as fast as I could to set up. I think the first are returning," he said.

The two medics locked eyes and nodded to each other as they prepared for the worst.

Porthos arrived first, carrying a young woman. She was strikingly pale, save for the splash of scarlet that ran down her face from a cut to her forehead. Her arm was bent at an awkward angle.

He laid her on the first bed and Christine checked her over.

"Porthos, what happened?" she asked as she examined the woman.

"Dunno," he said. "We was crossin' the market, returnin' from the palace when suddenly a vendor's cart erupted. There are four for sure dead. The vendor, two men and a woman."

Christine nodded. "Etienne, she's unconscious. Her arm is broken. Let's set it and splint it before she comes to. The cut is minor, no stitches needed," she said as Etienne got to work.

"Anyone else injured?" she asked.

"I can't say. There was blood everywhere. Athos was hit by some debris. He was bleeding but Aramis saw to it right away. Oy!" he shouted as he made a beeline for the door.

A cart had pulled up. Athos leapt down and staggered slightly. Francois and D'Artagnan drove the cart. D'Artagnan leapt down from his seat, grimacing slightly and helped an older man into the infirmary, a cloth pressed tightly to his forehead. The man was dazed, but conscious.

"Head wound," D'Artagnan said. "Aramis says it needs stitching."

"Let Etienne know. Keep the pressure on until he can tackle it," she said, running forward to Athos' side as he lifted a young boy into his arms.

Porthos reached him first and took the boy from Athos who swayed slightly. Blood could be seen leaking through the bandages tied on his left arm and leg. Ash dusted his doublet and hair. Francois went to Athos' side to help him to the infirmary.

"Athos! The boy!" Christine called.

"He was with the debris from the explosion. He's unconscious. Adam tried to shield him from the worst of it."

At these words, Christine's heart dropped to her feet.

"Adam," she whispered as sounds of another cart could be heard roaring towards the Garrison.

The stable hands struggled to control the panting horses as Bernard leapt wildly from the seat out front.

"Go!" said Athos, releasing Francois. Christine took his place under Athos' arm and began helping him towards the infirmary. Porthos emerged just as Aramis shouted, "Christine!" in a wild and desperate manner that sent ice water down her spine.

"I got him," said Porthos. Athos had lost a lot of blood from the wound to his leg and was fading but still struggling to control the chaos of the situation. Treville and many of the other musketeers must have still been at the palace. Porthos put his arm around the lieutenant and Christine ran towards the last cart.

What she saw confirmed her fears.

Aramis was kneeling at Adam's side, covered in blood, which poured freely from several wounds. "Help keep the pressure on. The wounds are large and there are many," he said tersely as he continued with the pressure that he was applying to the musketeer's torso. Francois and Bernard stepped awkwardly around them, as the pair tried to staunch the bleeding, and lifted the young musketeer from the cart.

oOo

The infirmary was chaos.

Etienne had tended the young woman and the older gentleman with the head wound. He was now examining the young boy gravely. D'Artagnan had set more water to boil and brew while Porthos kept a hand on Athos to keep him seated.

Francois and Bernard deposited Adam onto a table and stood awkwardly around, not willing to leave their brother.

A bowl clattered to the ground and someone swore.

"Everybody out!" shouted Treville appearing suddenly in the doorway. "Everyone but you three!" he said to Etienne, Christine and Aramis.

"But Adam – ," Bernard began desperately.

Treville cut him off. "If we want to give him the best chance he's got, we need to let them work! Now, out! Everyone!"

Treville's glare managed to overpower everyone, including the desperate Bernard and the stubborn Gascon.

"Etienne, the others," Christine said distractedly as she and Aramis began stripping Adam of his doublet.

"I'm on it," he replied brusquely as he returned to the unconscious boy.

Etienne could feel the broken ribs that ran along the boy's torso, and the large lump that was on the side of his head, the results of either the blast or its debris. A dark bruise had formed at the boy's temple. There was nothing Etienne could do as the boy's laboured breathing lessened. He stroked the boy's hair as his chest stilled. Etienne bit back a sob, and then covered the boy with a sheet. Bodies at times of war were one thing. This child was innocent.

He stepped away from the boy, now at rest, and focused his attention on Athos, grief and anger filling his eyes.

oOo

Once they had removed his shirt, Christine smothered a gasp at the extent of Adam's injuries. His torso was littered with puncture wounds and splinters of wood. His lower right side was still impaled upon a large metal barb. There was blood everywhere.

"Dear god, what happened?" Aramis cried out.

"A cart…exploded," muttered Athos weakly through gritted teeth as Etienne doused the wound in his leg with alcohol. "Saved the boy."

Christine had begun cleaning as much of the blood off Adam's body as possible.

"Is the surgeon coming?" Aramis shouted as he continued to apply pressure.

"He's been sent for," said Treville as he stared at Adam's body.

"Ar'mis," Adam muttered, blood speckling his lips as he exhaled.

"Adam!" cried the medic as he shifted his position to lean closer to the injured man.

"Was no accident…the cart…heard the shot…the boy…" he muttered.

Christine looked up and saw where the child had been laid, the tell-tale sheet covering his corpse. She looked at Etienne who shook his head.

"He's fine, you've saved him, Adam. You're a hero," she lied encouragingly, fighting back her tears.

Adam nodded slightly and then stilled again, overcome by the pain.

"What did he say?" Treville asked.

"He said the explosion wasn't an accident. A shot was fired which must have triggered it," Aramis said distractedly. "Where is the damn surgeon?!"

"Aramis," said Christine urgently. "We need to remove this barb from his side." She was pale as a ghost.

He shook his head. "We can't…If we remove it – " Aramis began, his brow wrinkled in worry.

"I know," she said. "But if we don't…"

Aramis looked to Treville. The older man nodded grimly. "Do it," he said. "Whatever you can."

The infirmary door burst open as a frenzied Bernard pulled the surgeon into the room. He stopped dead when he saw Adam's body.

"Bernard! Come with me. Let the surgeon work!" Treville said as he pushed Bernard from the room.

The surgeon approached the table and rolled up his sleeves. He surveyed the injuries and looked at the three medics gathered and shook his head gravely.

"There's nothing we can do."

"No," growled Etienne. "You must do something!"

The surgeon sighed. "I can remove the intrusion, but I'm afraid that the damage done to his organs may be irreparable."

"We've got to try," Christine cried. "Please, we've got to try. We have to do something."

"Alright," said the surgeon looking into her frightened and desperate grey eyes, "But do not trust to hope. Prepare the compresses," he said to Christine gently. "I'll need you to hold him," he said to Etienne, as he removed his instruments from his bag and washed his hands.

oOo