Chapter Twelve
There had been tension between them since Aramis walked away two days before. Treville had suggested that the marksman needed time to adjust to the possibility that the Athos they had known was gone. Everyone dealt with loss differently, and it seemed that Aramis needed to accept the inevitable in his own time.
Athos had not really known what to do, he felt sorry for Aramis, but Porthos pointed out that it was not his fault. None of what had happened was Athos' fault.
Porthos was sat with d'Artagnan watching as Athos practised another set of drills. Athos had decided that he did not need to practice in private any more. The other members of the garrison all knew what had happened, and he had told them he felt sufficiently confident to remain within the garrison for his training now that he was not a complete novice any more.
Porthos could see that the man had improved a lot under d'Artagnan's guidance, but he was still worse than a lot of the cadets. None of the other Musketeers or cadets said anything. Porthos was affecting his best menacing stare whenever anyone went passed.
His menacing stare changed to one of astonishment when he saw movement at the garrison gate. D'Artagnan looked up from the book he was reading when Porthos nudged him. The younger man almost dropped the book in shock.
Aramis had walked in with Milady de Winter. Athos' wife was walking with her hand hooked over Aramis' arm. They were walking together. She glanced across at them but did not change her expression, it was as if she had not seen them.
D'Artagnan was standing and about to walk across to the marksman and the woman he was escorting, but Porthos grabbed his arm and forced him back down. He had worked out what was going on.
Milady dressed in one of her usual low-cut dresses was being escorted by their friend to Athos. Aramis was taking their friend's estranged wife up to the man who had forgotten he even had a wife. Forgotten he had ever been married and had to condemn the woman to death.
'What's he doing?' said d'Artagnan, unable to hide his anger.
'He said 'e wasn't going to give up, this is 'im not giving up,' replied Porthos.
Aramis and Milady paused a few feet from Athos and waited for him to notice them. Porthos and d'Artagnan watched in silence. Part of Porthos wanted the shock of seeing Milady to be the thing that returned their friend to them. But he also did not want her to be the thing that brought him back.
Athos looked up at them and smiled. They were getting used to how much the man smiled now. Despite his frustrations at not regaining his memories, he had remained a friendly smiling man. Porthos could see that Milady was a little shocked at his demeanour. The man was quite different to the husband she had betrayed and the soldier he had subsequently become. But was he, perhaps similar to the man she had married, before it all went wrong for them?
Milady approached Athos who spoke to her with civility. There was no hint of his usual wariness around her or the downright hatred he occasionally held for her. Athos did not know the woman in front of him. He took her hand graciously. She spoke to him, he nodded a few times then shook his head looking towards Aramis.
They did not need to hear the conversation between Athos and Milady to know what was happening. Aramis' body language told them all they needed to know. Aramis looked down and obviously sighed, his shoulders slumped slightly. Aramis looked defeated.
Athos made a small bow to Milady de Winter who nodded her head in return. She turned from her husband. Aramis looked at Athos and smiled before falling into step with Milady and walking her from the garrison.
Athos watched them go for a few seconds he looked across to Porthos and d'Artagnan and smiled before shaking his head. He did not know the woman that Aramis had brought to see him.
Porthos looked back towards Aramis and Milady who had reached the gate. In an oddly tender move from the woman, she rested her hand on Aramis' arm for a few seconds. They nodded at one another once before she walked away. Aramis remained where he was for a few seconds, hands on hips clearly utterly defeated.
Perhaps the marksman was finally ready to accept that he could not fix their friend? Was Aramis finally ready to accept that the Athos they knew was gone?
MMMM
As Aramis walked over to them it was clear he was upset that his latest attempt to help Athos had failed. He looked at them for a few seconds before he looked down at the ground.
'I'm sorry,' he said quietly, 'I bumped into her at the Palace...she managed to get the information about him out of me…'
Aramis paused, d'Artagnan could well imagine what the woman had done to persuade Aramis to talk to her. He did not hold it against his brother.
'...she wanted to help. Wanted to try.'
'But it didn't work did it,' said Porthos glancing across to Athos who had gone back to practising his sword strokes.
'No,' said Aramis, 'there was nothing, even she was shocked that he didn't react. I didn't tell him who she was. He thinks she's just an old friend that I hoped he would recognise.'
D'Artagnan looked up as Treville came down the stairs from his office. He joined them at the table reaching across to take the water jug and a cup. He poured himself a cup before turning to watch Athos for a few moments.
'Are you ready to admit that there is nothing else we can do for him?' Treville asked Aramis.
Reluctantly Aramis nodded. D'Artagnan felt sorry for his brother as he finally accepted what they had accepted several days before.
'I've thought hard about what to do about him,' continued Treville, 'if he wants to stay here he will have to earn his keep. He will have to train with the other cadets…'
'You want him to be a cadet?' asked d'Artagnan.
Aramis said sadly, 'he's not a Musketeer is he?'
'The other men will not mind him joining them. I will make sure of that,' said Treville. 'They will accept him as one of them.'
'Are you deciding my fate?' asked Athos, who had walked up to them, slipping his sword into his belt as he did.
'Yes, Athos,' replied Treville, 'but it is up to you what you do. I have suggested that if you want to stay here, you will have to start again, as a cadet. I cannot allow you to be a Musketeer when you are...not.'
Athos looked at them all, 'I understand,' he said, 'and I wanted to thank you all again for helping me, for trying to get the old me back.'
He looked at Aramis, 'that woman, she's my wife isn't she?'
Aramis nodded, 'sorry, it was a bit underhand of me to try that...but…'
'I understand, Aramis, and I am grateful for your efforts. But if I am ready to stop trying, I think you should be as well.'
Aramis nodded.
'I would like to continue training, as a cadet,' continued Athos looking at Treville who nodded his agreement, 'but only if you think I am capable.'
Treville looked towards d'Artagnan.
'You've improved over the last few days, I think you can and will improve further,' he said.
'Good, then that's settled. And whilst I still hope to get my memory back and I know that you will continue to hope as well I would just like to thank you for looking after me these last weeks. I'm a stranger to you.'
'Not any more,' said Porthos, 'you're not quite the same as our Athos but you are still more than welcome to be here and be our friend.'
D'Artagnan watched as Athos face lit up with another broad smile. They were used to the smiles now.
MMMM
The cadets were spread out across the garrison yard meticulously going over drills. D'Artagnan slowly moved amongst them giving words of encouragement and stepping in to correct the men who were erring in their work. Some of the young men were very good. Some were not as good. D'Artagnan still had to put Athos in the not so good category. But he was improving.
Porthos had told d'Artagnan that he had found their friend alone a couple of times, quite late at night going over the drills. Porthos had pretty much ordered their former leader to bed the previous night. The man was trying to better himself constantly, but never got overly frustrated. He was quietly methodical with his work.
D'Artagnan saw a few of the commissioned men returning from guard duty at the Palace. The expected visitors were now ensconced with the King and courtiers and that meant that most of the Musketeers were spending long hours standing guard. D'Artagnan knew how it felt, he also knew that the men would probably welcome a chance to stretch their legs and potentially embarrass a few of the cadets.
He wandered over to the men, Porthos and Aramis were there, joking with a couple of the other men.
'Want some proper sparring partners for 'em?' asked Porthos as d'Artagnan approached.
With a smile, d'Artagnan nodded, 'if you wouldn't mind. It's always good to put those drills into practice.'
The Musketeers wandered up to the cadets. Porthos found a young man of a similar height and build to himself, he had enjoyed putting Marc through his paces with hand to hand combat a few days before. The cadet looked at him with mock disdain as Porthos approached pulling his sword as he did so. Porthos laughed at the cadet who grinned back with good humour.
Aramis walked up to Athos who greeted him enthusiastically. D'Artagnan was pleased to finally see Aramis treating Athos normally again. As normally as could be expected. They were not trying to get him back to how he was anymore. But they still treated him as one of their group, despite him being a bit unsure of himself still. Their natural pecking order had changed. D'Artagnan was no longer thought of as the newest of the four. Athos had taken the role with aplomb making jokes about it frequently.
It had only been a few days since Aramis had finally been convinced to let Athos be who he now was but already the four of them seemed to be settling down again.
The men made their salutes and prepared to spar. D'Artagnan continued to walk along the ranks nodding his approval and calling out to the cadets to raise their heads or watch their footwork. The sparring was cordial and considered. The commissioned men were taking their time, almost indicating their moves before they made them, to give the cadets a chance to parry or sidestep. As the sparring continued the Musketeers would not make their moves as obvious, they had all been cadets, they knew what it was like to face a superior swordsman.
MMMM
Aramis stepped forward with an obvious thrust expecting Athos to step aside, instead he stepped in and forced the sword away with his parrying dagger, leaving Aramis to go on the defensive.
'Very good,' remarked Aramis with a nod of approval.
'I'm getting better aren't I, I know I'm still not a patch on some of the men but I know it's better than it was,' said Athos as they retook their places.
They saluted again, Aramis tried another attack which was again easily deflected with Athos getting himself into a good position to force Aramis either to the side or to the floor.
'Try a bit faster?' asked Athos.
Aramis nodded. He did as he was asked and found the sword thrust again dealt with. Rather than stopping he pulled back and attacked again. Forcing Athos to be defences for several seconds. Athos' moves were still quite regimented but every now and then a little twist of a sword or shuffle of his feet, which was not part of the drills, was employed to improve Athos' fight. Aramis pressed on, forcing Athos back a few paces before allowing himself to be pushed back, defending himself with ease and watching Athos' moves with interest.
This new Athos was learning fast, he must have picked up moves from d'Artagnan. What he was doing was not all from the training, he was adding his own flourish. Aramis had to move quickly a few times to evade a sword strike.
After another few minutes of sparring, Aramis realised his opponent was not using moves that d'Artagnan had taught him. Athos was using moves that he had taught to d'Artagnan. The four of them had been together long enough now, had sparred and fought side by side enough to know each other's styles. They frequently used the knowledge to their advantage when having friendly sparring sessions.
The way Athos was now fighting, whilst not perhaps to the same speed as he had been, was how he had fought before the accident. Before his memory loss. This was not d'Artagnan's influence.
Aramis started to push Athos to work faster, to think quicker, to react with the speed of a trained, commissioned, superior swordsman.
MMMM
Porthos laughed as Marc tripped over his own feet and stumbled to the floor. For effect, Porthos pressed his sword tip into the young man's chest.
'You, my friend, are very dead...now get up and we'll try it again. Your footwork is awful. But your sword strikes are good.'
Porthos stepped forward and held out his hand. As Marc took the offered help up he looked across to the two men sparring to his right. Porthos followed his gaze.
Athos and Aramis were no longer making simple structured moves against each other. They were no longer slowly stepping into each sword thrust or parry. His friends were engaged in a sword fight. They were no longer sparring. What Aramis was doing was forcing Athos to defend himself. Aramis looked determined as he pressed forward, forcing Athos back. Athos, in turn, was making Aramis work in his attempt to disarm him. The two men were moving quicker than any of the other sparring cadets and Musketeers.
'Come on,' called Aramis, 'disarm me. Get on with it.'
Athos looked angry, he was starting to fight back. He was not simply defending himself he was giving as good as he got. To Porthos' astonishment, the workmanlike sword strikes that Athos had been using were now gone. The man was fighting well, with ease and precision, he was making Aramis move, he was beginning to take control of the fight. He was forcing Aramis to go on the defensive.
'Get me on the floor, you can't do it can you…' said Aramis between strikes.
Both men were breathing hard, but they continued to fight. Porthos realised the other sparring men had stopped and were all watching, stepping back as the enthusiastic pair forced each other to move around.
Athos was the better man in the fight. Athos was the superior swordsman.
MMMM
D'Artagnan took a couple of paces forward, his hand on his own sword. Athos and Aramis were now the only men fighting. They were not sparring, they were fighting each other. It was not a friendly match, this was no game of one-upmanship. This was a fight that both men wanted to win.
Athos looked angry. Aramis looked determined.
Aramis forced Athos back against the wall. Undeterred Athos grabbed a bucket and threw it at Aramis who knocked it way. The distraction enough for Athos to go back on the defensive, stepping forward and thrusting at the same time. Dancing out of the way and parrying with an ease that took years of practice.
Athos was fighting as he had done before. Before they had lost the old Athos before the strange new Athos had come into their lives. The style was Athos, the determined look was Athos, the man fighting was Athos.
The men watching were forced to step back as the fight raged on. Aramis was making small mistakes as the fatigue started to set in. Athos seemed to have noticed and pressed his advantage over the marksman further. Athos wanted to win. D'Artagnan wondered if Athos needed to win, to show them all that he could fight as well, better than, any of them.
Aramis made a mistake that Athos took full advantage of. He twisted his sword around Aramis' forcing it from his hand. At the same time, he stepped in close, hooking his foot around Aramis ankle tripping him. Aramis landed hard, dust thrown up by his impact on the ground.
Some of the men had been shouting at Athos and Aramis, a mixture of encouragement and shock at the ferocity of their fight. A silence fell across the garrison yard.
Without noticing the change in the atmosphere around him Athos raised his sword he was ready to bring it down on Aramis who stared up at him with wide, shocked eyes. D'Artagnan wondered if Aramis realised what he had done, goaded his own friend to the point that he was about to kill him.
Everyone in the garrison could see that Athos meant to kill Aramis.
Athos brought his sword down over the helpless man sprawled on the floor at his feet.
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Authors note: I can't bring myself to just put the next chapter up straight away. I love a cliff-hanger. I will leave you to mull this over for a few hours. You can have the next chapter later today.
