"Of course you are," Porthos answered. "You didn't think we wouldn't find you, now did you?"
Aramis' breathing was now calming down. "H…how….. Th..they said n..no one w..would ever f…find me," the tear being joined by several more trickling down, both from the words he had just spoken and from sheer joy to be with his brothers again.
"They were wrong, mon ami. We shall share everything with you when you've had more rest."
They could see that his tired mind was trying to figure things out, and his brows drew together in a sort-of mini-frown. All that he had been through ptevented that normally very sharp and alert mind to feel as if was wading through mud now. His brothers knew him very well, and knew, too, that he was frustrated by his present weakness.
"Aramis, just rest. Your mind, your body, your emotions have been dealt a severe blow. It will take time to recover, but you have to allow yourself that time. You fo not want to injure yourself further, mon ami," Athos said gently.
His eyes kept up their movements to each of his brother's faces, afraid they would fade away if he closed them. He couldn't bear it if his joy was taken away.
But then his eyes stopped, fixing themselves on d'Artagnan, who had been stowing their saddlebags in a small storage room and had now joined them. His eyes were growing wide in disbelief.
Athos, seeing this, said, "They had him, but he came back, Aramis."
"H..how?"
Porthos drew a reluctant Laurent forward with an arm around his shoulders." This young man helped him to escape. Then, memories from his childhood led us to you."
Aramis looked at the unfamiliar young man who kept his gaze on the floor. He reminded him of someone, but his mind was not yet cooperating with him to remember.
He was having an increasingly difficult time staying conscious, but he didn't want to to sleep. He still the fear inside.
Focusing on d'Artagnan again, a tiny smile played about his mouth as he attempted to lift his arm towards him. D'Artagnan, seeing this and realizing what Aramis was trying so hard to do, took his brother's hand in his own and gently squeezed. He could feel the fine tremors running through Aramis, rrcognizing the exhaustion and pain he was in.
"We're both back, Aramis."
His brothers, overjoyed at having found him, at the same time were beside themselves with rage at what had been done to him. They all wanted to find his kidnappers at the end of their swords or pistols.
Athos, though he loathed doing so, gently squeezed his brother's hand and steeled himself to ask Aramis, "Mon ami, do you know who did this to you?"
Aramis' facial expression slowly changed to one they very seldom saw-fear. Aramis was one of the bravest men any of them had ever known, and to see this tore them apart.
"It is all right, Aramis. You do not have to say anything. Just rest, brother. We will be with you at all times. Sleep," he said softly, as Aramis' eyelids, almost against his will, began to close.
Taking a collective deep breath and realizing even more how fragile Aramis was not only physically but emotionally, they silently looked at each other, sadness in all their eyes.
But they were unprepared for the faint voice of their brother, shocking them all at with the one word he said-'Richelieu'- before his eyes closed once more
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
"Richelieu?! He's behind all of this?" d'Artagnan said, his face reflecting his shock.
"I'll wring that man's neck for him!" Porthos growled.
Athos shook his head. "It is not that easy, and he knows it. He has the King's ear, has had it for years."
"The King is too easily led by the nose," Porthos interrupted.
"Granted. But we need unshakeable proof to bring a charge against him that Louis will even listen to."
"We're not going to let him get away with this!" Porthos angrily retorted
"Of course not, Porthos," Athos responded. "But at the moment, we cannot prove anything. Louis would dismiss our case out of hand if we present the little information we have at present. We have an ancient crumbling prison with no evidence that Aramis was ever in it. We have prior attacks upon us that we cannot prove, as Richelieu will just say the only witnesses are other Musketeers who accompanied Treville. We know he has many men hired to commit his evil deeds, but but we have no idea who all but one of them is, and we only have the word of someone who was once a member of these men that his brother is involved."
Silence followed Athos summation of their difficulty. Glancing over at Aramis, Porthos said firmly,"It's not right. Aramis would have died in that pit from blood loss, and starved, beaten, denied the light of day or even being with another living person. And in the meantime, Richelieu is still living living in the lap of luxury in the King's palace.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
After Porthos took his hand away from his shoulder, Laurent slipped further back, guilt eating away at him.
He should not be having praise heaped upon his head for anything. He had been a member of the men who had kidnapped d'Artagnan, and held against his will.
He had overheard his brother on more than one occasion talking about 'taking' the other Musketeer. He was a guilty man.
He had spent enough time with the Musketeers to know these were good and honorable men. They were totally opposite in both character and action to the brother he loathed. Aramis deserved nothing that had been done to him, and which had nearly killed him.
How could he live with himself? He refused to consider that he had lived in utter fear of his older brother his whole life. A real man would have found a way to slip out and make his way to the Musketeers garrison to inform them of his brother's activities.
His head hung down as the guilt ate away at him.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
As Aramis slept, he grew increasingly restless as a thick grey haze swirled in his head. Then, a voice taunted him, "You really thought your brothers came for you?"