Ok. Fanfiction is still a little messed up today, too. So it's forcing me to post this chapter as 33 in the publishing section, even though you will see that there is no 32. You aren't missing anything. The story goes along as it should, unless fanfiction does another number on me. Hopefully, they will get all the bugs out by the time I post the next chapter, which might be Sunday or Monday, if all goes well. Sorry to put you through this. It's been a real strange time trying to navigate their site right now.
Pistols and swords drawn, the Musketeers stayed as still as possible, encircling their brother in a protective stance.
Booted feet moved around the upper level. Then, someone raised his voice, demanding, "Where are they?"
They heard the voice of their hostess reply, cool and calm for all the world acting as if she didn't have four Musketeers sheltering in her cellar. "Who are you searching for?"
If anything, the man's voice grew louder and more intimidating. "As if you do not know."
"Sir, my husband and I live here alone. Our children and grown and gone. No one else is here, or has been here for a great while."
"Then, you won't mind if we look around the place?" he demanded instead of asked.
"My husband might, but he's gone to Paris to see if he can sell some of our harvest. Search where you will," no fear at these men at all in her voice.
Sounds of more booted feet began moving around above them, accompanied by banging and rustling, as if opening doors and looking through things. It seemed to go on forever to them. Their haven temporarily had become their trap. They had absolutely no way to get away if the searchers found the way to open their hiding place.
It was during the search that they heard a low moan and a slight movement from behind them. Moving swiftly and hating what they were forced to do, they bent over Aramis, Athos putting one hand firmly over his brother's mouth to keep him from any more sounds that could betray their presence to the searchers. Porthos and d'Artagnan held him still as firmly yet gently as they could.
Aramis was partly conscious, though, and the sudden hands holding him down and binding his mouth struck fear into him. He began struggling to break loose. They had no trouble keeping him still as he had no strength to combat them, but they felt awful that they had to do it, seeing his face contort with his efforts to get away from what he once again believed to be his captors' grips. Athos could feel the panicked breathing as he kept Aramis silent. He was afraid his brother's heart was racing, too.
The man's voice growled above them again. "Men were seen heading this way by other farmers we spoke to. Where are they?" he asked once more in a very intimidating voice.
"They may have come this direction and kept right on going. There are low-lying hills beyond here. They may well have thought them a perfect place to hide out. I have seen no one. You have searched and torn apart my poor home, so you have seen for yourself I am alone," she responded. "What did these men do that you are after them?"
"That is none of your affair, madam. Suffice it to say that they have taken something valuable from my employer, and for that they will pay with their lives. If you see or hear anything that will aid us in our search, you had better contact us immediately-or face the consequences," and with those parting words, he turned and left, followed in silence by all of his men.
They mounted up and galloped off in a thunder of hooves. She waited until the sounds faded into the distance before heading down the stairs to the lower cellar.
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Athos, Porthos and d'Aragnan couldn't have felt worse if they tried. The last thing they wanted to do was to make their traumatized brother relive the torment of being held in captivity again, but they had no choice.
The men searching for them would have an overwhelming advantage of coming at them from above, making it extremely difficult to defend against, while protecting their highly vulnerable brother from them at the same time.
They could still feel Aramis' weak attempts to free himself under them for several moments while the men were still above. Then, his body went limp.
Once the sounds abovestairs faded away and disappeared, they turned very worried eyes on their brother as they released him. He was staring up at them, eyes wide with fear. They could see that he wasn't lucid, and wasn't recognizing them at the moment. His chest was heaving as his fear had caused his breathing to accelerate.
Hoping to comfort him and let him know everything was all right, Porthos reached out a hand to lay on his arm. Aramis flinched away from him to Porthos' horror.
Athos stayed by the bed, but made no movements toward his brother. Instead, he spoke softly and calmly to him.
"Aramis, it is Athos. Porthos is here and d'Artagnan. You're all right," but received no recognition in response.
Athos was quiet for a few moments, thinking. Then, he turned to Porthos and d'Artagnan. "Perhaps if just one of us is here, he will relax a little. He isn't lucid, just sees all of us as being threatening to him."
Both men vehemently protested, Porthos saying, "I would never hurt my best friend!"
Athos was quick to explain. "I know that, Porthos. But Aramis does not recognize us at the moment. I would like to try speaking to him alone. Could you and d'Artagnan go take care of the horses, draw a couple of buckets of water, and obtain some broth or porridge from our hostess, please? If it does not work out with me, you may try next."
Both men were downcast as they reluctantly headed for the steps up to the first cellar, then into the house, heading out the front door. They first cautiously looked from the doorway to make sure a lookout from the group had not been positioned to spy on the house.
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Athos gazed down at his beleagred brother, wondering if what he was about to do would bring their brother back to them again. He had known he needed to do so without Porthos or d'Artagnan's presence, considering the subject he intended to bring up with Aramis.
Taking a deep breath, he began.
"Aramis." he said softly. And again a little louder, "Aramis?"
Aramis stared back up at him, still with no hint of recognition in his pain-filled eyes.
"Aramis, you are not recognizing us right now. That is all right. Some very bad men held you captive and hurt you. Then, we had to keep you from making any sound, so those same bad men would not find you." Stopping, Athos could see that he had Aramis' attention now, but no sign that he understood his words yet.
"Aramis, to help you to remember me, I am going to share something with you that only you and I know about so that you will know me. All right?"
Aramis didn't reply, but the intensity of his gaze told Athos he was at least curious.
"Aramis, you and the" …. stopping for a moment at what he was about to say. "Aramis, do you remember our time at the convent?"