He felt the strong jaws from one of the dogs clamp down on his booted ankle, dragging him back to the ground. He fell heavily, twisting onto his side he elbowed the dog away, catching it across the jaw. The dog gave a small yelp and backed off a few feet. Athos knew he had no choice, he had to shoot the dog. He wrenched his gun from his belt and raised it to aim at the dog which was already starting to advance on him.

The darker faced dog had managed to work its way up the alleyway beside its fellow canine, Athos was focused on the snarling dog, not noticing the darker dog until it was too late. As he went to pull the trigger, the darker dog moved forward, biting down on his wrist. With a reflex action Athos pulled the trigger, the snarling dog yelped and scampered back. But Athos had no time to worry about how badly injured the other dog was, his sole focus was on the darker dog which was trying to shake its head and pull at his arm.

The leather of his doublet was taking most of the impact of the dogs vicious looking teeth, but the sheer force of the bite caused Athos to cry out in pain. He could feel his arm being crushed, he wondered if one of the bones in his forearm would break. Something at the back of his mind kept telling him the dog biting his arm was the least of his worries.

The other dog.

He managed to look in the direction it had stumbled off. Sure enough, it was starting to advance on him again, from his prone position on the ground, pulling at his arm trying to get free, the second dog looked much bigger than it had done before. The blood dripping from its side did not seem to be slowing it down. Athos wondered if the dog was only still alive through sheer determination.

Knowing he had to deal with the advancing dog, taking advantage of the darker dog's distraction of trying to rip his arm off, Athos managed to reach his boot and pull a dagger from it. The thought of letting the dog get close enough to him to plunge the blade into it was not something he really wanted to do. The snarl had not been diminished since its injury if anything the dog seemed more determined to hurt him. Athos pulled at his arm, still held captive by the other dog, briefly before going back to concentrating on where he was going to strike the advancing salivating hound.

He kicked at the dog which backed off a couple of paces before moving to the side, taking advantage of every inch of the width of the alleyway. The dog knew it would have more of an impact by attacking Athos' body and head. Athos readied the dagger, holding it as firmly as his rapidly diminishing energy would allow.

The dog paused, Athos was sure it narrowed its eyes at him, before launching, Athos stabbed upwards, catching the dog in the throat. A lucky thrust for him. Unlucky for the dog. The momentum carried the dog forward, as it landed on Athos it was still. With a second surge of strength, Athos pushed the dog off him, towards the other dog that was still biting down on his arm. The dog let him go, barking loudly, backing off a few paces.

Athos did not believe he had won; he wrenched the dagger from the other dog's throat. He twisted towards the second dog before it had time to move too far back, bringing the dagger down on the back of its neck. With a yelp the dog moved off, trying to shake the dagger free.

The energy left him, he flopped back to the ground, panting. He stared at the sky. He closed his eyes for a few seconds.

He could not pass out. Not where he was. He had to get off Gerard's property. He tipped his head back and looked at the gate behind him, he lifted his right arm and pulled at the lower bolt, drawing it back with ease.

Slowly and surely, he twisted over and pushed himself up. He looked at his left arm, the leather of his doublet was wet from the dog's saliva. He resisted the urge to push the sleeve up, instead he pushed the injured limb into his doublet. With a fortifying breath, Athos pushed himself up to stand, reaching out with his good hand to steady himself. After opening the top bolt on the gate and checking that the dying dog had not returned, Athos slipped away.

MMMM

D'Artagnan looked up as Treville walked through the door. His immediate reaction was to apologise to his Captain, but before he could speak Treville shook his head.

'No, d'Artagnan, you have nothing to blame yourself about. The notes you made; they've helped us. If you hadn't had made notes, we would have been none the wiser what had happened to you.'

Aramis smiled, 'I told you he'd not blame you.'

'How is he?' asked Treville, looking towards his field medic.

D'Artagnan rolled his eyes, 'I'm not allowed to tell you myself?'

Treville chuckled, 'go on then.'

'I have a horrible headache and generally am bruised all over. We think I was in a building that collapsed or exploded.'

'The broken building,' said Porthos with a smirk.

'That's what I was calling it when I got back here apparently,' said d'Artagnan trying to hide his embarrassment.

Treville held out the notes that d'Artagnan had made. He took them and read the words, recognising his handwriting. The writing was hurried. He shook his head.

'Sorry,' he said, 'I've no recollection. I should have written down the address…'

Porthos said, 'why? You were making notes of things you thought were important, details about what you were hearing and seeing. You weren't to know something would happen that would make you forget where it happened. Remembering the address would have been easy...if a building hadn't fallen on you.'

D'Artagnan could see the sense in what his friend was saying but could not help but continue to feel guilty.

'Where's Athos?' asked Aramis.

'Gone to search Gerard's house. I've been keeping an eye on him for the past couple of weeks. He visits a woman a couple of times a week, he'll be busy for a few hours. Athos should be back soon. Hopefully, I will be able to fill you all in on exactly what is happening when he gets back.'

'Good,' said Porthos, 'it's about time we learned what's going on.'

MMMM

Athos would have preferred the cover of darkness to help conceal him as he made his way back to the garrison. It was obvious he was injured; he could not hide it. He was limping from where the dog had bitten his ankle and dragged him to the ground, and he knew his wrist was at best badly bruised at worst broken. He cradled his right arm with his left. Keeping to the side of the street he reached an alleyway, he turned into it intending to use the back alleys to get as close to the garrison as he could. He did not want help from anyone too close to Gerard home or questions would be asked. Gerard would know he had been visited when he returned home and found his dogs in less than perfect health.

He glanced behind him. Two men were following him. He had not noticed anyone watching the house as he had stumbled away. The men did not look the sort that would help him. Athos contemplated returning to the main road and seeking help from a passer-by, but he was denied the chance. The men were on him before he could turn back.

Athos had lost most of his weapons during his tussle with the dogs. He swung a punch at the first man but had little impact, the man grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back against the nearest wall. The move knocked the air out of him, the man who only had one eye, sneered at him.

'You ain't gonna cause us any more problems,' said the man.

Athos detected a Spanish accent.

The man shifted his position slightly, Athos tried to deflect the knife but was too slow, the blade was pushed into his side firmly. The one-eyed man looked satisfied with his work. He released Athos who could not stop himself from crumpling to the floor. He pressed his left hand against the wound. The second man stepped forward and kicked him. Athos could not prevent the kick, he fell to his side and tried to curl up before further kicks were made. The two men kicked and punched him for a few seconds. Athos knew it was only seconds. He knew he could not stop the assault so simply lay on the ground and counted in his head. Once he had reached fifteen the men stopped. He opened his eyes and watched blearily as they simply walked away.

Athos guessed the men thought their job was done.

The men were wrong.

Pooling every last ounce of strength Athos pushed himself up to sit. He looked in the direction the men had gone for a few minutes as he settled his breathing. He wondered if he was about to repeat d'Artagnan's walk through the city whilst injured. His friend had mumbled several times that he had needed to get back to the garrison. Athos knew that the mission d'Artagnan had set himself was now one that he had to take on.

He pressed his hand firmly over the stab wound. He was forced to use his injured right arm to steady himself as he staggered to his feet.

The back alleys would lead him to within a few streets of the garrison. He could do it. He just had to persevere.

MMMM

'Athos?'

Aramis walked with increasing pace towards his friend. The Musketeer had walked through the gate at one of the rare moments it was unguarded. He was leaning heavily on the wall, his right arm held tightly in front of him. As he stumbled forward bruises on his face were revealed. A nasty graze on his forehead added to his beaten appearance.

The Musketeer looked at Aramis as he reached him.

'I didn't get it,' he slurred before crumpling to the ground.

Aramis yelled for help before kneeling by the unconscious man. Making a lightning assessment of his friends health proved difficult, Athos was lying on his side, his face towards the ground, his obviously injured arm prevented Aramis from undoing Athos doublet.

'What happened?' asked Porthos from behind him.

Aramis twisted around, 'he just turned up like this, said something about not getting it, before passing out.'

Two cadets had appeared behind Porthos. Aramis indicated for them to help him.

'Tell Treville,' said Aramis to Porthos. 'This must have something to do with Gerard.'

Porthos nodded, 'I think it's about time we were fully briefed.'

As Porthos hurried off to update their Captain, Aramis followed the cadets who were carrying the unconscious Musketeer into the infirmary.

'You stay right there,' said Aramis as he passed a very concerned d'Artagnan. 'I'm not having you collapsing whilst I deal with this.'

D'Artagnan nodded and remained where he was.

'Remy,' Aramis turned to the blond cadet. 'I need you to find the physician, ask him to come here. I may not need him, but as we now have two ailing soldiers, I think it would be worth his while to visit.'

The cadet left to follow his order. Aramis glanced at d'Artagnan.

'I don't know what happened,' Aramis said in answer to the unasked question. 'But we think it has something to do with whatever you found out...you don't happen to have remembered yet?'

D'Artagnan shook his head. Aramis sighed and returned his attention to Athos. The other cadet, Paul, was about to touch Athos' arm.

'No,' said Aramis. 'It's injured in some way. We'll cut his jacket; I don't know where else he's hurt.'

The cadet moved to a cupboard and began to gather cloths and bandages.

'There are scissors to your left,' said Aramis as he started to gently feel his friend's arm.

Athos groaned but did not wake up.

'What have you two been up to?' wondered Aramis with a glance to d'Artagnan.

The other injured Musketeer shook his head.

'I still have no idea. I'm sorry.'

Paul had found the scissors, he handed them to Aramis who glanced at Athos apologetically before starting to carefully cut his friend's doublet. Between them, Aramis and Paul eased the jacket off his friend. Aramis' eyes went wide when Athos' shirt was revealed. Bloodstained a large portion of the once white fabric. Aramis quickly ripped the shirt to reveal a wound which was still bleeding. Grabbing one of the cloths, Aramis pressed it to the wound. The move caused Athos to moan again.

'Hold him still. He can't move too much…'

Paul did as he was told, pushing Athos arms down, pinning him to the bed.

'What is it?' asked d'Artagnan from across the room.

'He's been shot or stabbed. I don't know which. It's still bleeding...I need help - not from you - from the doctor. This needs proper care, more than I can give.'

Aramis knew he could give rudimentary help, he could deal with most battlefield injuries in the first instance, but he was no surgeon, and that was what Athos needed.

The door to the infirmary was pushed open. Porthos appeared, leading Treville.

'I've sent one of the cadets for the doctor,' said Aramis with only a glance at the new arrivals.

Treville looked at Athos for a few seconds before moving to Aramis' side. He eased Aramis' hands away, replacing them with his own.

'Deal with his other injuries. The less that will need to be done when the doctor arrives the better.'

Aramis nodded. His Captain was right. He could still help his friend even if he could not deal with what he hoped was the most serious injury.

MMMM

'Paul,' said Treville, 'find more cloths...make them if you have to. Fresh linen cut it up. Find someone to help you.'

Paul nodded and rushed from the room. Porthos moved across to Treville who had just changed the cloth covering Athos' wound. He wadded up the next cloth.

'I'll take over,' he said, wanting to help his injured friend.

Treville nodded.

'Just keep firm pressure on it,' said Aramis without looking up.

Porthos watched Aramis gently feeling along Athos bruised forearm. They had all been shocked at the severity of the bruises.

'I'm sure it's not broken, just really badly bruised. I'll strap it up for now. The doctor may suggest something else.'

Treville stepped back to allow Porthos to replace the pressure on the wound to Athos' side. The wound was still bleeding, the floor of the infirmary was littered with bloody cloths. The Cadet was still watching the wounded man carefully, ready to restrain Athos if necessary. Porthos had not seen any further sign of their friend coming around. The lack of any response from Athos was a mixed blessing, it meant he did not have to be restrained but they also had no idea what had happened to him.

The door was pushed open as the doctor, a sensible man named Henri, entered, closely followed by Remy who looked a little out of breath. Henri put his bag on the table and began to shrug out of his doublet. Remy took the jacket and the man's hat from him.

'Talk to me,' said the no-nonsense doctor.

Aramis straightened up, 'he's been stabbed or shot. I don't know which, the wound is deep and bleeding a lot...I'm already worried he's lost too much…'

The doctor looked over Aramis' shoulder, 'his other injuries?'

'Nothing I can't deal with, monsieur.'

Henri nodded, 'then deal with it. Just do not get in my way.'

Aramis nodded, Porthos wondered if Aramis was pleased to be relieved from dealing with the most serious injury. As his friend quietly continued his work, he indicated to Remy to assist him. They worked calmly cleaning and dressing the numerous grazes and cuts Athos had across his body.

Henri looked at Porthos, 'you will assist me. Do as I ask when I ask without question. I shall do all I can to save your friend, although he will be mostly responsible for his own survival.'

Porthos nodded, he knew that half the battle of recovery was down to the injured man to believe he could get better. The doctor eased Porthos hands from the wound for a few seconds. Porthos watched as the blood appeared, spilling from the wound. The doctor made a disapproving sound before indicating for Porthos to reapply the pressure.

'Continued pressure for now. It looks like a narrow blade. No ball to dig out.'

Porthos asked, 'are you going to stitch it?'

The doctor shook his head, 'we will clean it as well as we can, but the chance of infection means I do not want to have to remove any stitches. We will keep a close eye on it.'

Porthos maintained the pressure as the doctor had ordered. He watched Aramis and Remy slowly and methodically working, covering the worst of the other injuries, applying ointments and salves where they could.

Treville huffed with annoyance, Porthos knew that their Captain could not tell them why Athos had been attacked at that moment. Now two Musketeers had been harmed. Porthos wanted to know why they had not learned enough of what was going on to fully understand. He glanced at d'Artagnan who was watching them work. Treville moved to sit with d'Artagnan. Porthos could hear the pair talking quietly. D'Artagnan told Treville he still could not remember where he was when he had been hurt.

The doctor lay his hand on Porthos' gently pulling them away from the wound. The bleeding had stopped.

'I need to clean it thoroughly. Hold him still.'

Porthos and Aramis moved to hold their friend down. As the doctor began to clean the stab wound Athos reacted, his eyes opened wide and he cried out in pain. He tried to pull away from his friends. The doctor worked quickly, using a mixture of his own creation to clean the injury. After cleaning the wound and wiping away the blood, Henri covered the wound and awkwardly wrapped a bandage around Athos who was still weakly fighting them all.

As his struggles became weaker, they released him, Athos finally relaxed his breathing settling. Porthos was pleased to see Athos remain conscious, even if he looked a little unfocused.

'There...there was a dog. Two dogs…'

Aramis looked up, 'the bruise on his arm. It could be a bite.'

Porthos watched Athos nod before he continued, 'when I got away from the dogs. I was stopped by two men...I think they were in his pay-'

'Who's pay?' asked Aramis, before pausing and glancing at the doctor.

Henri chuckled, 'I am on my way,' he said. 'You can talk about affairs of state freely.'

Porthos smiled at the doctor, 'thank you.'

'Athos,' said the doctor, 'you lost a lot of blood. You will remain calm and unmoving. You will let them do everything for you.'

The doctor glanced at the other men in the room who all nodded.

'If the wound becomes infected, we will deal with it.'

The doctor patted Athos' shoulder waited for his patient to nod his ascent before stepping away.

'Remy,' said Treville, 'will you show the doctor out?'

Once they were alone the Captain moved to a position where they could all see him, he sighed.

'I think it is time that you all learned what it is that has caused two of you to be nearly killed.'

MMMM

D'Artagnan managed to push himself up to sit a little straighter. He watched as Porthos helped Athos to sit up a little, pillows pushed behind the injured man to help prop him up. Athos looked pale but mostly focused. Aramis handed Athos a drink. The Musketeer looked at the medic for a few seconds before taking a swig, pulling an unappreciative face as he did so. Treville waited for them to settle before he filled in Aramis and Porthos all that he knew, which was not much about Baron Gerard and the plot to kill the King. Aramis shook his head, Porthos rolled his eyes. The plot was nothing new, the King was constantly under threat, but it still had to be taken seriously.

'We know now that the plot is moving forward,' said Treville, 'we know there are explosives involved, thanks to d'Artagnan.'

D'Artagnan sighed, 'I still can't remember anything though,' he said.

'But we have your notes,' Treville reminded him. 'And the attack on Athos appears to have been made by people involved somehow. We don't know who is ultimately at the top of the chain.'

'The men that attacked me were Spanish, they implied I - or perhaps the Musketeers - were causing them problems. They had to be involved,' said Athos. 'I am sorry, rather like d'Artagnan I cannot remember much about them, I was already weakened by the dog attack.'

Athos stared off into the distance for a few seconds. D'Artagnan thought he looked a little uneasy. Was he reliving the attack, d'Artagnan was sure the attack by the men would not affect him, but the dog attack was a bit different.

'Will Gerard know that you were at his house?' asked Treville.

Athos nodded, 'I killed the dogs. I didn't get as far as breaking into the house though. He would not know what I was there for. But, if the men that attacked me - the Spanish men that attacked me - were in the pay of whoever is working with Gerard, then they know that we are at least interested in him.'

'This does not change anything; the investigations will continue. We need to find out who is at the top of this and what the Spanish involvement is. From d'Artagnan's notes, it appears to be an assassination followed by a coup.'

'Could we try to reason with Gerard. He probably hasn't worked out that he is being used by them. Perhaps he will give them up?' asked d'Artagnan.

Porthos shook his head, 'he won't believe us. And then we'd lose the chance to get to the man at the top. He will be being watched.'

'It is unfortunate,' continued Treville, 'but we have to let this play out. He does not know how much we know-'

'We don't know much,' interjected Porthos with a huff.

'But we will be on his guard and expecting us to continue to watch him. To that end, I would like one of you to watch his house for a few hours. No need to hide in the shadows, but don't make it very obvious.'

D'Artagnan felt a little annoyed that he would not be able to help with the investigations for a while. He was ready to admit that he was not up to full duties. His head still hurt and he was starting to feel tired again, now that the shock of seeing the aftermath of the attack on Athos had settled down. Aramis was quick to volunteer to watch the house for a few hours.

'Can I look for the thugs that attacked Athos?' asked Porthos.

Treville nodded, 'yes, it would be odd if we did not actively look for the attackers. Arrest them, don't seek revenge though.'

Treville looked at Porthos for several seconds. Porthos nodded slowly. Treville had not said that the arrest could not be unpleasant, thought d'Artagnan, revenge would be had by Porthos in some form or another.

MMMM