As d'Artagnan attempted to slip further back into the darkness of the cave, he froze at the distinct sound of a musket's trigger being cocked.
Then, the mocking voice called out again, "I wouldn't move if I were you, Musketeer. My man is very good with a musket, you see, and you will be without a head if he sees any movement. Now, without going to your injured friend, you will wake him up and invite him to join our little party. NOW!"
He hated having to awaken Aramis to this scenario, but was helpless ot do anything else at the moment.
"Aramis!" he called softly, trying to hopefully bring his brother to consciousness gently.
"You will have to do better than that, boy," he heard. "I want him at the cave entrance in five minutes. I do not have all day."
Sighing, d'Artagnan called out in a much louder voice. "Aramis!"
He heard a slight stirring from behind him now.
He knew he didn't dare take a chance and try attempt to warn Aramis of the men down below, not when he was the target of a musket. But he was heartsick. He still believed Aramis to be the focus of this rather large group of men, who were now hunting them broken down into smaller groups probably over a wide area. He didn't want them to be able to lay hands on him for whatever nefarious purpose they had been hired for.
Aramis' voice, still somewhat groggy, called out behind him, the tone confused. "D'Artagnan, is everything ...all right?"
D'Artagnan started to say, "There are men...," and was pointedly interrupted.
"So you are finally awake. Join your friend at the cave entrance now! His life depends on your following orders, and I will not give them twice."
Aramis' face registered his shock at the unexpected voice, but he stayed silent at the implied threat to his brother's life.
D'Artagnan heard the slow movement of Aramis as he lifted himself from the dirt of the cave's floor on which he lay, and then hesitantly moving to the entrance, finally arriving next to d'Artagnan.
The voice continued. "So it's true what I was told about the four of you. You do care deeply for each other. This is going to be easier than I thought. All I have to do is threaten one of you to get complete obedience from the other one."
Aramis and d'Artagnan's eyes met in silence, each wondering who had hired them and had supplied them with that information. They were in a whole lot of trouble. They already knew they were unable to communicate with each other verbally, and knew the place they stood now was the one and only way of coming and going from the cave. They were trapped.
The increasingly irritating voice below them began again. "You, boy, will stay exactly where you are. Aramis will come down here and join us if he wants you to stay in one piece. NOW!"
D'Artagnan's panic level went into overdrive as his injured brother dragged himself over to the edge of the hill the cave was situated on, wavering as he went. He finally came to a dead stop at the sharp drop to the bottom.
There's no way he can make that descent, d'Artagnan thought, as Aramis fumbled his way over the edge, clinging for dear life for a moment to the rocky surface underneath his scrabbling fingertips.
Ordinarily, Aramis would climb down with no fear whatever. His fear was always for others, especially his brothers. But in the present situation with his injury and increasing bodily weakness, he would have been a fool not to feel a little trepidation at his climb down the rocks of the hill.
About a third of the way down, it finally happened. D'Artagnan was a little surprised that it hadn't occurred earlier. Aramis' foot slid over a protruding rock instead of being able to plant his booted foot firmly down.
He suddenly found himself clinging for dear life to the piece of rock his desperately searching fingertips finally found. Swinging his booted feet to find a firm place to rest them again, they almost slid once more before finding a shelf-like formation to rest a moment on.
The hooded man's voice spoke. "I thought you Musketeers were experts at everything you do, and you can't even climb down a hill? This is not the time for a vacation. Do you really want me to have your friend shot before your eyes? Get down here now."
D'Artagnan was coming to a slow boil. How dare they push an injured man like that! He found himself wishing he had a sword at the man's throat as he watched Aramis get his hands beneath him to start again. D'Artagnan fervently hoped his brother could make it the rest of the way without any more heart-stopping near-tragic accidents on the way down. But his hopes were to be dashed.
Aramis wearily lifted himself up and continued his painful descent. But a few yards from the bottom, disaster struck. His boot landed on a number of small loose stones which rolled under his feet, causing him to lose his precarious handhold. Beginning to tumble down the rest of the way, his body banged against the rocks several times, his hands unable to grab onto anything big enough to break his fall.
D'Artagnan watched helplessly, hoping against hope that Aramis hadn't broken anything in his fall. He watched as two of the hooded men reached out to grab Aramis, who had landed in a heap at the bottom, and lay unmoving.
Two of the hooded men came forward and reached their arms out for him. But just as their hands grabbed for him, two shots rang out simultaneously, the men jerking violently as the bullets stopped their movements, spinning them around to fall inches from Aramis' prone body.
Their companions mounted and spurred their horses out of the clearing to get away.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
D'Artagnan, frozen in place by the threat to his life, watched everything happen like it was in slow motion, his heart in his mouth in horror. Then, he heard the two shots.
Almost disbelieving, he watched now as another group of riders rode into the clearing, as the hooded men disappeared out of sight in the other direction. Recognizing the blue cloaks immediately, d'Artagnan's breath whooshed out of his body in relief, shouting, "Captain!" He saw Athos and Treville holster their smoking weapons, telling him they had been the ones to take out the two men grabbing Aramis.
Their rescuers eyes' flew sharply to where d'Artagnan stood, before returning to the unmoving body before them. Dismounting swiftly except for Athos, who stiffly and painfully climbed down from his horse, they ran to Aramis, while the rest of the men formed a protective circle around their downed comrade. Porthos knelt and turned his brother over carefully.
It didn't take d'Artagnan more than a few moments to make his own ascent. Dropping to his knees next to his brother, his eyes never left Aramis, whose eyes were closed in a face, even in unconsciousness, gone white from the ordeal.
Upon Porthos turning Aramis over, they saw that his shirt was torn and bloody, a bandage wrapped around his torso. Ghosting his hands over the black and blue body of his brother, Porthos could tell he had at least four bruised, if not broken ribs.
D'Artagnan asked, "Is he all right?" to Porthos, worry coloring his speech.
"I'm no medic, but I can tell he has bruised or broken ribs, and some kind of injury around his middle that I am guessing you tried to take care of?" Porthos answered, his eyes locked on Aramis as he spoke.
D'Artagna, to whom Aramis had been imparting some of his medical knowledge the past month or so, without answering now began removing the cloth he had wrapped around his brother's body to keep the wound in his side from bleeding any more. He found that it was now dirty and torn, and once again soaked with his blood.
Porthos, without a word, pulled his shirt up and ripped a piece of it off, handing it to d'Artagnan, who flung the bloodied one away and rewrapped the wound with the new piece. Then, he cleaned the bruised and wrapped them firmly, to give the ribs support in case they were more than just bruised.
Aramis never moved or made a sound the whole time.
Treville finally spoke up. "D'Artagnan, what happened here?" speaking softly to his newest Musketeer, recognizing the Gascon was traumatized by what he and Aramis had just been through, suspecting it was more than the tiny scenario they had come upon.
"It's my fault!" he said, barely above a whisper. "I wasn't careful enough. I didn't check thoroughly before taking it away," causing Treville, Porthos and Athos to look at each other questioningly. Take what away?
D'Artagnan was continuing, "Captain, these hooded men. The first attack before we were separated from Athos and Porthos. I saw them keep looking at Aramis as we were fighting. He is the one they want, and I...I almost gave him to them with my carelessness." He broke down then, the tears falling from both his perceived guilt, the whole time of hiding away, and Aramis almost dying before his eyes. They were also falling in relief at their rescue. But what if it was too late, and Aramis paid the price?
Athos, who had remained silent through everything so far, leaning heavily upon the arm of one of the men who had accompanied Treville, spoke up. "None of us would ever consider you careless, d'Artagnan. I am sure you have done everything you could to keep you and Aramis alive."
"I pulled the brush away," pointing upwards towards the cave entrance, finally telling the others what he had meant before. "I thought I could just go get some berries to go with the fish I had caught yesterday. I pulled away the brush..." and here he was unable to continue for a moment.
Shaking himself, he began again. "As soon as I stepped out on the ledge, riders appeared coming into the clearing. Their heads were all hooded. Their leader spoke right away. He..." taking a deep breath, he went on. "He said he had a man aiming a musket at my head, and I had better...get Aramis over to the cave entrance. I did, and the man told him to come down the hill if he didn't want to see my head shot off."
They all understood his pain even better now. They knew Aramis. To save anyone's life, he would willingly give up his own, especially one of his brothers. Porthos' free hand came to rest on Aramis' head, realizing just how close they had come to losing him.
"He was in pain, dizzy, unsteady on his feet, but he did what they told him to do. To save my life. He nearly didn't make it down twice. Then, he lost his footing and fell the rest of the way to where they were waiting. He has been through so much."
Treville, who was very observant, said, "D'Artagnan. I can see that your shoulder is wrapped from an injury. You have been through a trauma taking care of Aramis and nearly seeing him lose his life. I think both of you have suffered a great deal in this. We will get to the bottom of what is going on, but for now, we are taking you, Aramis and Athos back to Paris to be seen by a physician."
At the mention of Athos, d'Artagnan's head came up, staring at his mentor. "What is wrong..." seeing the pain etched on his brother's face.
"One of these roving bands of hooded men captured Athos and Porthos as they were searching for you. They tortured Athos, and were going to start on Porthos the next day, when they managed to escape."
Shocked, d'Artagnan turned again to Athos, seeing him hunched over and leaning against the man next to him, and asked, "Are you all right? What did they..."
Porthos responded angrily, "They laid the flat of his own main gauche on his back, and then stuck him with it...over and over again. His back is a mess. They wanted to know where you were," indicating d'Artagnan and Aramis.
"They wanted Aramis, " d'Artagnan said softly. "He is one of the kindest, most compassionate people I have ever known. What could they possibly think he did?" gazing down at his brother as he spoke.
Aramis moaned and tried to shift his body, causing Porthos' hand resting on his head to begin gently weaving its way through his wayward curls in an attempt to calm him down. Aramis responded immediately, his body becoming still again, except for his attempting to move his head further into Porthos' hand in an instinctive response to his touch.
"Whatever they think he may have done, they are wrong," Athos said, as his eyes never wavered from his brother's face.
"If they come after him again, they will wish they hadn't," he continued in the coldest, deadliest tone d'Artagnan had ever heard him use.