Authors note: If you read my Whumptober 2019 stories you will probably remember parts of this chapter; 'Explosion'; 'Delirium' and the first part of 'Adrenalin' feature heavily. There are a few changes to help the plot.
Possible trigger warning: This chapter features an attack by dogs.
D'Artagnan did not have his eyes open but he knew the sun was beating down on him. He slowly turned his head and raised his hand to shield his eyes as he opened them. Even after shading his eyes the brightness of the day was uncomfortable. Through squinted eyes, he looked around. He was not sure where he was. Wherever he was had been destroyed, stone walls were crumbled and fallen all around him. Wisps of smoke told him the destruction was new. But he could not remember it happening.
The ringing in his ears slowly faded, to be replaced by silence. He wished the thumping in his head would fade as well.
Very slowly, d'Artagnan managed to sit up. He looked down at himself, he was dusty and his clothing and boots were scuffed, but he did not seem hurt. Other than his head.
He had definitely hurt his head.
He reached up and felt the back of his head, there was a lump, but no blood. He suspected he would find bruises as the hours wore on, but at that moment it was only the bump on his head that was affecting him.
He tried to piece together how he had come to be where he was. Had he been with anyone? Should he be looking for someone else in the rubble that had been a building? He did not even know what the building had been. It was all very confusing. There was something in his mind that came to the fore. He had written something down. He reached into his doublet and pulled out a folded piece of paper, he looked at it for a few seconds and realised it had probably been a good idea that he had written down the details of what he had found out, as he had no recollection of them.
But now he knew why he was where he was. He also knew he would have to get that information back to his Captain. Treville would know what to do with it.
D'Artagnan set himself a mission. Getting back to the garrison.
He knew the injury to his head was likely to cause him problems. The sooner he could get back to the garrison, back to safety, the better. He could hand over the information and let his friends take care of him. He managed a smile, they still fussed over him as if he was a cadet whenever he was injured. Secretly he did not mind.
He slowly looked around again, there was no sign of anyone else, not even a body. Had he been alone when the building had exploded?
He was sure the building had been blown up, either by accident or design, but he had no idea why. Perhaps the information he had written down would make sense to Treville and he would know why it was necessary for the building, whatever it had been, to be destroyed.
With carefully controlled movements, d'Artagnan, twisted around so that he was on his knees. His vision swam, he had to take a few deep breaths, fighting a nausea he had not felt whilst lying on his back.
The explosion had either scared people away or he was in a very quiet area of the city, perhaps on the outskirts. Would people be coming? D'Artagnan decided that he did not want to meet anyone, he would not know if they were friend or foe and in his current state, he would not be able to fight anyone.
Getting to his feet and moving away was his first priority, orientating himself and heading towards the garrison his second.
Get back to the garrison.
D'Artagnan's mission would become his mantra, he had to fight the head injury, he had to succeed.
After a few stumbled steps he managed to stand straight. He waited for the spinning to stop before moving again. He had to try to walk normally or he would draw attention to himself. Although walking away from the site of an explosion whilst covered with dust was likely to make him noticeable anyway. But that could not be helped, he had brushed off the worst of the dust and debris, but he knew he would still stand out.
If he did not look at anyone, if he ignored people, he might not get stopped. He could not be stopped. He could not be delayed.
Get back to the garrison.
D'Artagnan made his way through the fallen stones and bricks, being careful not to stumble, he did not like the idea of having to get to his feet again. He still had not seen anyone. It took him a few more yards of careful steps to work out where he was. He looked up, fortunately away from the harsh sunlight and saw the steeple to an old disused church. He sighed. He now knew he had quite a long walk ahead of him. And there was not even the prospect of a safe haven between his current location and the garrison.
Get back to the garrison.
Voices to his left made him turn his head, a movement he quickly regretted. Pushing on through the spinning and nausea he moved quickly out of sight of the people. He did not stop to see who had arrived as he walked away.
Normally d'Artagnan would have welcomed a warm sunny morning, but not this time. The low sun was hot on his back as he walked, each time he found shade he was pleased.
Perhaps he could stop in the shade for a while.
Get back to the garrison.
He pushed on. More people started to appear, some stopped to look at him, some walked on by. None of them spoke to him, he continued to look ahead, he did not make eye contact, he could not be distracted. He felt as though he was making progress across the city, but at the same time, it did not feel as though he had moved at all. He wondered if he was walking in a circle. He knew he was not; he had not turned off the road. But he would have to soon, although he could not remember why.
Get back to the garrison.
D'Artagnan turned into a smaller road, he knew it linked to the busy road that led to his destination. He had forgotten where he was going again. He paused, leaning on a wall, running a hand through his hair. He gasped as he brushed the bruising to his head, he could feel his knees buckling.
Get back to the garrison.
Panting hard, blinking frequently and trying not to throw up, d'Artagnan managed to push off the wall and stand again. He could not afford to stop he had to keep going. He had to get to the...the...what was he doing again?
Get back to the garrison.
Get back to the garrison.
Get back to the garrison.
But why?
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'He was quite merry when we left,' said Porthos with a grin, 'if he carried on drinking, I hate to think what state he'll be in when he turns up.'
Athos shook his head, 'he knew we were to start work first thing.'
'You were the ones that wanted us to have a relaxing evening before we started work on, whatever it is that Treville has given us to do,' said Porthos.
Athos reluctantly agreed, 'Treville was quite adamant that he needed you two rested before we began, although I am not sure this is what he had in mind.'
Athos nodded towards Aramis who was pouring himself a cup of water, the Musketeer was trying to hide the fact that he was suffering from the effects of too much alcohol. Aramis had been a little the worse for wear the previous evening as Athos, in a switch to their usual places had escorted his friend to his rooms and deposited him on his bed.
Aramis managed a contrite smile after he put the jug of water down.
'At least I slept in my own bed,' said Aramis with a smirk, that Athos could tell his friend regretted making.
Porthos scoffed, 'do I look like I didn't relax last night?' he asked with a wink.
Athos rolled his eyes, 'the assignment we have been given is to stop an assassination of the King.'
Both his friends looked at him. Athos knew they would give him their undivided attention. D'Artagnan already knew what they were going to be doing when the young Musketeer showed up, he could join them in their investigations. Although Athos wondered if his friend would be any worse off than Aramis was.
'When d'Artagnan turns up,' said Athos, 'perhaps you could mix him one of those draughts of yours that helps with headaches?'
Porthos sniggered, 'I think Aramis could probably do with one of those himself.'
Aramis looked at them both, 'it's not that bad. I'll be fine by the time we start our duty.'
Athos shook his head and rolled his eyes.
They all looked up when they saw him. Porthos laughed, Aramis smirked, and Athos shook his head again.
The young Musketeer looked as though he had just wandered out of the tavern. Athos wondered if he had continued to drink with his friends after had left him.
'How did he get in that state?' asked Athos as he looked d'Artagnan over.
The young man was filthy, he was covered in dust and dirt, he had mud on his breeches and his boots were scuffed. He was also missing his weapons, Athos knew d'Artagnan would get in trouble for that. They watched as the confused man wandered towards them. Athos knew what it felt like to sober up after a long drinking session, he pitied his friend, even if he thought d'Artagnan deserved the pain.
As d'Artagnan reached them Aramis shuffled along the bench a little to allow him to sit down. As the untidy Musketeer lowered himself gingerly to the bench he started to speak. But what he said made no sense.
'I had to come back,' he said. 'The building was broken...couldn't stop...get back to the garrison. My mission...get back to the garrison.'
'You're back at the garrison now,' said Porthos. 'When did you leave the tavern?'
D'Artagnan looked at Porthos for a few seconds, 'I'm not in a tavern. I was in the broken building...wrote it down.'
'D'Artagnan?' said Aramis. 'Are you alright?'
'We should get him inside, Treville should not see him like this,' said Athos, glancing around as he spoke.
Their Captain had encouraged them to take a few hours to relax before what would no doubt be a taxing assignment but d'Artagnan appeared to have gone a bit far.
'Wrote it down...need to tell the Captain,' d'Artagnan was blinking and wavering a bit.
When he tried to stand up again, he stumbled to the floor.
'Whoa,' said Porthos. 'You need to lie down, even Athos doesn't get this bad.'
Athos glared at him, 'I shall take that as a compliment,' he said through gritted teeth.
Aramis had moved off the bench and crouched beside d'Artagnan who was trying to undo his doublet.
'Get back to the garrison...wrote words down...I've forgotten them…'
Athos could see genuine concern on Aramis' face. The field medic reached up and gently felt d'Artagnan's head. D'Artagnan hissed and pulled away, pushing Aramis' hand off him.
'Have you fallen over?' asked Aramis.
D'Artagnan just looked at him. Aramis looked up at Athos and Porthos.
'He's got a bump on the back of his head. I think he's been unconscious.'
'That would explain why he's behaving like that,' remarked Porthos.
D'Artagnan was pulling at his doublet again.
'Does he mean it?' asked Athos. 'That he's written something down?'
Aramis gently peeled d'Artagnan's fingers away from the buttons on his dusty doublet and undid the top two. The crumpled paper was tucked into his jacket, Aramis eased it out and handed it to Athos before returning his attention to the injured man.
Athos opened the paper, he read the scrawled words recognising d'Artagnan's writing.
'I need to get this to Treville,' he said.
'Go,' said Porthos, 'we'll take care of him.'
Athos nodded his thanks and ran to the stable.
MMMM
Athos' horse was already saddled, it only took him a couple of minutes to check his tack and mount up. He urged the horse out of the garrison as Aramis and Porthos were helping a very confused looking d'Artagnan into the infirmary.
D'Artagnan's scribbled notes indicated that he had seen some of the plotters meeting and talking about their plan to assassinate the King. Athos knew the Captain would need to be updated as soon as possible, it appeared the plot was moving quicker than they had first thought. If d'Artagnan had not seen the meeting they would not know that explosives were to be employed. D'Artagnan had also written brief descriptions of the men involved, although it appeared his friend had not had a very good view of the men. But as they had no idea who was involved other than Gerard any information was useful. Athos wondered what had happened to d'Artagnan to leave him in the state he was. He did not appear to have been involved in a fight, but something underhand had happened to him.
It was early enough in the morning that the streets were still relatively quiet. Athos would have liked to progress a little quicker, but his pace was still more than it would have been later in the day. As the Palace came into view Athos wondered what Gerard hoped to gain with his assassination. D'Artagnan's note mentioned a coup and preventing the Duke of Orleans from taking the throne which would rightfully be his should the King die childless.
Athos knew the information d'Artagnan had gathered would not be enough to put a stop to Gerard, but it was enough to confirm Treville's suspicions. Athos had no doubt that the source that had passed the information to the Captain was legitimate, but he was happier now that they had additional information. Even if that information had come at a cost to his young friend.
Athos slowed the horse and dismounted near the side entrance to the Palace. He handed the reins to one of the stable boys who were posted around the Palace to assist visitors.
'I probably will not be long,' he said to the sandy-haired boy.
The boy nodded and moved off with the horse to stand him in the shade of the nearest tree.
Athos greeted the Musketeers on duty at the door with a nod and made his way into the Palace. He did not know where the Captain would be but suspected he would be near the King. The King liked having his Musketeer Captain nearby to use as a sounding board and occasional confidant.
Courtiers wandered along the corridors; Athos cursed them under his breath as he moved around them. A hubbub of activity in one of the reception rooms drew Athos' attention; he had found what he was looking for. The King was surrounded by courtiers talking to a diplomat. Athos did not bother to follow the conversation as he circled around the group. The King seemed annoyed at the diplomat and was making his feeling felt, his voice raised a little.
Treville was standing a few yards behind the King. He was staring straight ahead; Athos could tell his Captain was seething. He suspected the King was making a mistake with his diatribe against the diplomat. Athos made eye contact with his Captain who looked almost relieved to have an excuse to step away from the arguing monarch. They quietly moved to a side room leaving the nobles to argue amongst themselves.
'There has been a development,' said Athos quietly.
Treville looked confused.
'Baron Gerard.'
'It's not even mid-morning,' said Treville. 'How can you have found out...anything yet?'
Athos sighed, 'd'Artagnan overheard some men talking last night-'
'Last night? Then why am I only hearing this now?'
Athos raised a hand to stop his Captain.
'Captain,' he said. 'D'Artagnan was injured somehow, he only made it back to the garrison a short time ago.'
He pulled the scrawled note from his doublet and handed it to Treville, who took it, the confused look returning to his face.
'It seems,' continued Athos, 'that d'Artagnan was unconscious for a while, he cannot remember what happened. He was somewhat confused when he made it to the garrison. He must have made these notes when he was listening to the men.'
Athos watched as Treville read the notes, his eyebrows raising as he took in the information.
'We're lucky he was able to make these notes,' said Treville once he had read the scribbled writing twice.
Treville wandered towards the door linking to the room where the King could still be heard berating the diplomat. He stood, lost in thought for a few seconds before turning back to Athos.
'I take it Aramis and Porthos know what this is all about now?' he asked.
'I gave them some details this morning before d'Artagnan returned. When I left them, they were taking d'Artagnan to the infirmary, Aramis was quite concerned about the head injury he has.'
Treville nodded, 'that's fine. I think you would be better alone for what I have in mind.'
Athos waited for further instructions. Treville moved away from the door, further into the room. He stopped by an ornate fireplace; Athos followed him. Treville spoke quietly despite the chances of them being overheard being slim.
'The Baron won't be at home at the moment. I've been monitoring his movements for the last couple of weeks. He sees a woman, for a few hours a couple of times a week. His house will be empty. He's very secretive, doesn't allow any of his staff to stay in the house if he's not there...I'm actually surprised he's not come to our attention before, his behaviour is strange.'
Treville shook his head. Athos wondered if the Captain felt to blame for not guessing Gerard would eventually be involved in a plot to assassinate the King.
'Search his house. See if you can find something, anything, that could incriminate him. Anything that indicates who these other men are.'
Athos nodded, 'I understand.'
MMMM
'Guess we'll have to remain in the dark for a bit longer,' said Porthos as he watched Athos disappear into the stable.
Aramis nodded, 'although,' he said, 'at the moment I'm more concerned about d'Artagnan. Help me get him to the infirmary. This confusion worries me.'
'Get back to the garrison…'
'D'Artagnan,' said Aramis, 'you are back at the garrison. You are safe.'
D'Artagnan looked at Aramis for a few seconds before nodding.
'Tired,' he said.
'I know,' said Aramis.
Porthos moved to the injured man's other side, he copied Aramis' actions of gently easing d'Artagnan up to stand. The confused man allowed them to walk him slowly towards the infirmary.
'Will he be alright?'
Aramis shook his head, 'I don't know. Head injuries are always difficult. And we don't know what else has happened to him.'
Porthos sighed. They had all taken knocks to the head at one point or the other, showing signs of confusion was not uncommon but it was unnerving. Porthos knew they would have to keep a careful eye on their friend for the next few days.
D'Artagnan had gone quiet, Porthos wondered if he was trying to work out what was going on. They sat him on the edge of one of the beds and started to strip him of his filthy clothes.
'I wonder what happened to him?' said Aramis as he eased the young man's arms from the sleeves of his doublet.
'What did he say, something about a…' Porthos paused, thinking back to the confused words d'Artagnan had managed when he had first returned, 'broken building or something.'
Porthos took the doublet and brushed it down sending dust and small lumps of brick across the floor.
'Was he caught in an explosion?'
Aramis looked at d'Artagnan who was watching the dust particles that had been caught in the sunlight that was streaming through the window.
'Didn't one of the cadets say there had been an earthquake earlier?' said Porthos.
They had laughed at the cadet at the time, but now Porthos wondered if the lad had heard an explosion.
'Near the closed church…' said d'Artagnan who seemed to have been able to follow their conversation. 'Can't remember the name...sorry.'
Porthos smiled, he crouched down in front of d'Artagnan, 'I think you've done some good work, but you can't remember it. You wrote some notes and Athos' taken them to the Captain. You're off duty now.'
D'Artagnan nodded.
'Are you hurt? Anywhere other than your head?' asked Aramis as he eased d'Artagnan around on the bed and gently pushed him back against the pillows.
'Don't think so…'
D'Artagnan was blinking again, his eyes closing for longer and longer.
'Keep an eye on him whilst I get some water. We'll get him cleaned up and let him sleep,' Aramis paused watching the sleeping man for a few seconds, 'he did really well. I hope he remembers what he did when he wakes up.'
Aramis wandered off to collect what he needed. Porthos pulled over a chair and sat by the sleeping Musketeer.
Porthos watched as d'Artagnan roused slightly for a few seconds before slipping back to a restful sleep. He smiled, their friend had managed, despite the odds, to get back to them. They could sort out the whys and hows later.
MMMM
Athos knew it had been a mistake to climb the wall and try to break into the house from the back. It seemed so simple at the time, no one was in the house, not even any servants. As Gerard was currently being entertained by his mistress, Athos thought he would have no issue breaking in.
Athos was wrong.
Gerard had two dogs.
Two big dogs.
That were loose.
The large enclosed back garden had looked empty when he had dropped down from the wall. No other houses overlooked the garden. Athos had walked confidently across the manicured lawn, passed an impressive oak tree that dominated the centre of the lawn. He had reached the back of the house and was looking at the lock on the back door, trying to decide if he should pick the lock or just break in. If he broke in he would not have to worry about making a mess to look for any incriminating evidence against the Baron.
A low growl behind him made him freeze. He turned slowly and looked at the owner of the growl.
The snarling dark brown dogs were standing a few yards from him. One had slightly bowed its head, its ears back, baring teeth that looked far to big. The other, with a darker face than the first, paced a few feet to the side, trying to block Athos' easiest escape route. Athos guessed the dogs were well trained. They certainly knew he should not have been where he was.
He did not want to shoot the dogs; he could not draw attention to himself. He was in the enclosed rear garden of a very secretive man; it was obvious he was trespassing.
Athos glanced towards the wall he had climbed over to gain entrance to the garden, on the other side he had been able to move an abandoned wooden chest to gain enough height to reach the top. He had not planned to leave in the same manner, he had expected to slip out via the side gate, which he would have unlocked from the inside.
The black-faced dog was preventing Athos from escaping with ease via the gate. His only option was the wall. The dogs were standing their ground, they had not advanced on Athos. Were they waiting for him to make the first move? Perhaps they were trained to keep intruders' captive until their master returned.
He looked at the wall, there were enough points of erosion to give him places to grab onto and push up from. The problem was he did not think he could be quick enough. The big dogs would be on him before he reached the wall.
Slowly he eased his main gauche from the back of his belt, the dogs watched his every move. The growling dog took a couple of slow steps forward as Athos moved. When he had freed the main gauche Athos moved it back and forth a couple of times. The dog's eyes followed the movement. Athos threw the parrying dagger as far away from him as he could. Both dogs followed it, bounding the few yards within seconds.
Athos did not wait, he ran, he knew the gate was only around the corner of the house, in a narrow alleyway between the high perimeter wall and the light grey stone of the main house. He reached the alleyway and tore along it to the gate. He could see the two bolts as he skidded to a halt, as he reached for the lower one, he heard the tap of many claws on stone. The big dogs were after him. He looked up, the gate was not as high as the fence, he reached up and grabbed the top of the gate and started to haul himself up, he had nothing to use for his feet to gain purchase. Athos managed to get one arm hooked over the top, ready to pull his body up.
But he was too late, the dogs were on him.
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