D'Artagnan and Aramis slept for hours. D'Artagnan finally awoke, groggy and slightly disoriented at first. Wisely, he stayed prone for a little while, until he fially felt more himself. He lay there thinking.
He knew food and water were going to become a major survival problem if they stayed hiden in the cave for much longer, but he knew Aramis was not yet in any shape to travel very far.
He decided he would wait for his brother to awaken on his own, and then he would try reconnoitering the area for something to eat and drink. With all the lush greenery in the area, it told him there had to be water fairly close by. He just needed to find it. And where there was water, either an animal could visit it for their its needs and he might then find a way to kill it, or if he had to, he could try spearing a fish by sharpening a branch from one of the trees.
Sitting down again next to his slumbering brother, he gently threaded his fingers through Aramis' hair.
Who was after him? he silently asked himself. He didn't have any idea if Athos or Porthos had noticed, but he sure had. The men who had ambushed them seemed to all have their eyes trained on Aramis while they had been fighting. What did they want with his friend, he wondered.
They had already come much too close to ending his life. Why? For what reason? And had they been hired by someone to do it, and again, if so, what for?
Aramis was beginning to stir now, his eyes moving under his lids.
"Aramis?" d'Artagnan called softly. "Are you with me now?"
After another few moments, the marksman's eyes sleepily opened. Blinking a few times, they gradually sharpened their focus on d'Artagnan.
"Where...," he began.
Then, before d'Artagnan could respond, his eyes suddenly widened as his memory came back.
D'Artagnan saw the recognition slowly return. "Yes," he said. "We slept for a very long time. But we obviously needed it. "
Aramis slowly nodded his head, his senses gradually returning to normal. The pounding headache that had accompanied his awakening had dulled his sensees, but it was receding now.
"Yes, I believe we did," he at last said. "They've gone then?"
"Yes, for now," the Gascon replied. "But we have no way of knowing if they are gone for good. If they don't find any trail to pick up, they may eventually double back."
"We should probably try getting to ..."
D'Artagnan interrupted him, speaking softly. "Aramis, you are in no condition to travel. You ..."
"I will be f ..."
He interrupted him once more. "No, you're not, mon ami. You lost a lot of blood while you were trying to conceal that wound, and instead took care of me," guilt still eating away at him that he hadn't insisted more on looking at his brother's wound.
Aramis was quiick to change the direction of the conversation, never liking to focus on anything that was wrong with himself. "I need to take a look at your sh ..."
D'Artagnan fondly frustrated by the familiar attempt to change the subject, smiled almost sternly as he said, "Aramis, you do realize you nearly died, don't you?"
It wasn't often that Aramis was forced to focus on his injuries, as he was so good at dissembling, but he now nodded his head slowly.
"Aramis, I'm going to go out and see about finding us some water and food. I won't be gone very long. I don't want this to become any more desperate than it is already, and food and water will enable us to continue to use this cave for a while longer, hopefully until Athos and Porthos find us," not knowing just how close their brothers had already been.
"We can both go," Aramis suggested, only for d'Artagnan to remind him once again of his condition, something his brother never wanted to let get in the way of his doing something.
D'Artagnan told him, "Aramis, you have no idea how awful I feel that I wasn't able to take care of you sooner. I will have to live with the fact of your almost dying, but in turn, I want you to promise me you will stay put while I'm out...please?"
Knowing when he was defeated, Aramis finally nodded his head, but his eyes gave him away. He hated feeling helpless, and having others do for him. But he could hear the plea in his brother's voice, and so acquiesced to his request. He couldn't help the big sigh that came almost immediatley afterwards, though.
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D'Artagnan left the cave, carefully arranging the brush over the entrance, then made his way down the hill, half sliding as he went until he reached the forest floor.
Still cautious, he walked around the outskirts of the clearing, finding everything calm and peaceful.
He stood a moment, deciding which way would be the most likely for him to find water. Nothing gave him a clue, so he just went straight ahead of where he was.
Winding his way through the trees, his eyes searched for any glimpse of blue, but there was nothing. He was almost ready to try another direction, when he heard a small, gurgling sound. 'Water,' he said to himself with an accompanying smile.
A few yards further on, through the trees and brush he saw a small winding creek. Reaching it in moments, he slid down the dirt bank, wincing as his bottom came into contact with various pebbles and stones embedded in the dirt. He didn't care. Reaching the water, he almost joyfully scooped some up into his hands and drank thirstily.
Next, he got out the bowl he had fashioned from a piece of wood, and scooped up enough water to fill it to the brim.
Laying it aside, he crouched down and waited, hoping maybe a rabbit or even a squirrel might come for water. But the longer he weaited, the more discouraged he got, partially spoiling his earlier happiness.
He didn't want to be gone from Aramis for too long, so he headed back with the precious water.
He found Aramis watching at the entrance. When his brother was handed the bowl of water, d'Artagnan grinned at the smile it produced.
When Aramis had finished, d'Artagnan told him, "I'm going to hollow out a larger bowl and also refill this one. I might be gone a little longer this time, as I can fish in the creek. If I spear a couple, we can have some dinner tonight. Do you think you could try to get a little more rest while I'm gone?"
Aramis said he wasn't really tired, even though d'Artagnan could see dark circles under his eyes, so he said again, "Would you try for me?" before leaving again.
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Athos and Porthos continued to follow the trail, never realizing they had come so close to finding their brothers.
They continued until dusk, when it became too difficult to follow the tracks. They were exhausted, as well, so they decided to make camp for the night, well back from the men they had been following.
They got no further than dismounting from their horses, however, when they heard the familiar and ominous sound of a pistol being cocked. They both tried reaching for their own weapons, figuring their opponents didn't have much daylight to take a clean and accurate shot. But when they heard several more weapons being cocked at various points around the clearing,they froze, knowing they were in trouble.
"I would take your hands away from your weapons, if you don't want your heads blown off," a disembodied voice called from the darkness to their left.
Knowing they didn't have a choice, both Musketeers followed the order.
Several hooded men came out of the woods, guns trained on Athos and Porthos. Two of them got a fire going, while the leader, in plain sight now, came forward and stared at the Musketeers.
When the fire was lit, he finally sauntered up to them. "What do we have here?" he asked, looking around at his men. "I think we caught us a pair of Musketeers," laughing as he said it. Athos was giving the man a long hard look now, as he recognized something about the voice he was hearing.
The leader circled them, slowing looking them up and down, as he continued to speak. "Maybe you would like to tell us where your friends are?" Seeing the looks of disbelief from both of his captives, he laughed.
"Oh, you will tell us. It's just a matter of time, and ..." He hesitated, obviously enjoying the control he had of the situation. "Now, where was I? Oh, yes. You will not like our methods, but I can assure you, we will have the answers we want. You just may not feel very well when we finish," nodding to his men.
Athos and Porthos were quickly bound hand and foot after being situated in the center of the camp, surrounded by six very menacing hooded men, and unpleasantly aware of what would probably come next.
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D'Artagnan had been in luck after he returned to the creek. He had used the sharpened end of the branch he had readied, and gone fishing. It hadn't taken long to spear four nice-sized fish, and silently rejoiced to have had such luckthat day.
Wrapping the fish in leaves, he found a way hold them under his arm, so he would have his hands free for the two bowls of water he was bringing, as well. The sharp stick was under his other arm, as he could use it again the next day.
When he reached the bottom of what he was coming to think of as 'their hill', he laid the fish down so that he could carry the bowls up first.
He got both of them to the cave entrance without a problem, then laid them down carefully while he removed the brush once again.
Ducking his head as he came in through the low entrance, he looked around for Aramis. His brother ws lying on his back halfway across the cave. But d'Artagnan froze as his eyes adjusted to the light.
Aramis was lying almost rigidly still. His eyes, wide and staring, were fixed on his chest, where a large snake was lying poised to strike.