Authors note: Gosh, so many comments about how generally mean I am. Sigh… I am a bit mean at the end of this chapter as well – and you have to wait until tomorrow (UK time) for the penultimate chapter.
Chapter Thirteen
The men had swarmed them from all sides. It surprised Athos that they had been taken by surprise. He counted eight men before he was forced to focus on the two men who had confronted him. He heard two gunshots, hoping that the noise meant that the odds had been evened out a little Athos concentrated on the men in front of him.
But there was only one man fighting him. Where was the other?
Porthos was facing two men, he was in a dangerous position; his back to the river on uneven ground. D'Artagnan was behind him, he could not see the younger man. Athos suspected he was responsible for one of the gunshots, had he hit his mark? Aramis was fighting a large man who was making him work, forcing him to move away from firm sword strokes.
Athos wanted to finish off his opponents and help his brothers.
The man in front of him was goading him into trying to beat him. Athos fought the man harder and faster.
'Come on,' called his opponent, 'disarm me. Get on with it.'
He had to finish off the man forcing him to fight, he had to help the others. They were all capable, but none of them would begrudge his help.
'Get me on the floor, you can't do it, can you…'
Help his brothers.
The man was breathing hard, he was tiring, Athos knew he had to take advantage. He twisted his sword around his opponents, forcing it from his hand. He stepped in close and tripped the man to the floor.
Kill the man and help his brothers…
MMMM
Porthos watched horrified as Athos went in for the kill. He knew that was what Athos intended to do. He had seen it before; in battle.
In battle, they killed men because they had to. They fought the enemy it was kill or be killed, they had no choice. They were ordered to advance they were told what to do. They were soldiers. Nobody liked killing enemy combatants, but it was the life they had chosen. Keeping the peace and protecting the King and their country sometimes meant killing other people.
But Porthos had never expected to see Athos about to kill his friend, in the garrison yard in front of the regiment. Porthos had never expected to see the Athos they had come to know over the past weeks kill anyone. This Athos, Porthos was fairly sure would find the act of killing a man to be the most difficult part of soldiering. They had talked about it, he had asked them what it was like to take a life, he had paled and looked ill as they had described some of the more intense battles where the men they killed were right in front of them.
Right in front of them as Aramis was now in front of Athos, lying on the floor with no weapon. Defenceless. Aramis was staring up at Athos, at his sword. Aramis appeared to have become frozen with the fear and knowledge of what his goading had led to. Porthos wondered if Aramis regretted what he had done. He was sure Aramis did not want to die but knowing the marksman Porthos suspected Aramis would be feeling pity for pushing Athos to the point that he was now at.
The sword caught a glint of light reflected from the late afternoon sun as he began to swing it towards Aramis. It had all happened so quickly. One minute the two men were fighting each other with force the next Aramis was on the floor, defenceless and about to be killed by one of his best friends.
The garrison was silent, Porthos was sure he heard the swoop of the blade as it travelled with speed through the air towards Aramis' neck. Aramis would probably not die straight away from the wound, he would bleed to death quickly, but his death would not be instant. The sword would probably cut into his neck and leave him gasping on the garrison floor a pool of blood forming under him. Porthos had seen people die like that before. He did not want to see his best friend die in the same way. They were soldiers, they should die in battle, not at the hands of their friends.
Porthos was about to see one of his best friends killed by another.
The sword stopped a fraction of an inch from the neck of its intended victim. The near silence in the yard continued, the silence was broken only by the gasped panted breathes of the two men in the centre of the yard.
The man on the floor staring at the man who had just stopped himself short of killing him. Aramis was staring at Athos. Athos stared back at Aramis.
Athos blinked a couple of times. He looked around himself, his eyes were unfocused. Athos stepped back a couple of paces, stumbled steps, uncoordinated steps. The sword dropped from his hand harmlessly hitting the ground a couple of feet from its target. Aramis did not move, he continued to breathe hard watching Athos.
Porthos moved forward, slowly at first before quickening his pace as he sensed what was going to happen. He reached Athos just as his knees buckled. The man would have crashed to the ground had Porthos not caught him and held him up. He was not unconscious, but his head was bowed, he was still breathing fast. He was heavy, almost limp in Porthos' arms.
Porthos managed to guide Athos across the yard to the bench, Athos took shuffled steps, it was as if he was drunk. But Porthos knew that was not the case. He did not know what was wrong with his friend. The other men moved out of the way for them. He pushed Athos onto the bench. The man leaned forward, head down still breathing hard. Some of the other men moved closer. Porthos looked up and shook his head with a warning glare. The men stepped back, unsure what to do. Unsure what was expected.
MMMM
D'Artagnan watched as Porthos led a very confused looking Athos away, across the yard. The man looked weak, on the point of collapse. None of the other men spoke, they stared dumbfounded at Athos and Porthos, then back at Aramis who was still lying on the ground watching his friends.
D'Artagnan pushed his way through the crowd of men and walked up to Aramis who refocused his attention on him. D'Artagnan could not work out if Aramis looked shocked or regretful, perhaps it was a mixture of both? Bending down behind Aramis, d'Artagnan hooked his arms under the marksman's and hauled him to his feet. Aramis wavered once before finding his balance, his eyes on Athos and Porthos the entire time.
Some of the men had started to murmur and shift self-consciously. Nobody knew what to do.
The rapid sound of boots on the wood of the stairs drew their attention. Aramis managed to look away from Athos towards the approaching Treville.
The Captain looked livid. He was not a happy man.
'What the hell was that,' he yelled as he walked up to Aramis.
D'Artagnan took a couple of steps back without realising it. He did not want to put himself in the firing line of the Captain's wrath, although it appeared to be well and truly aimed at Aramis.
'What were you thinking? You could have been killed.'
Treville grabbed Aramis by the collar of his doublet and dragged him closer. Aramis looked a little shocked at the move.
'You know he's not ready for that kind of pressure. The man has only a few days of training in him. We're surprised at how well he's doing but he could have killed you.'
Aramis glanced across to Athos and Porthos. D'Artagnan could see that Porthos was not looking back and Athos still had his head down. Porthos was crouched in front of their friend talking to him quietly, d'Artagnan guessed that Porthos was trying to get Athos to calm his breathing.
'You've still not got it, have you? That man is not Athos. Not the Athos you know. You cannot push him, you don't know what he's capable of yet. If he had killed you, what do you think that would have done to him?' Treville paused. 'You would be dead, and we would be left to deal with it. You're an imbecile. I've told you to drop it, to leave him be...but you just can't can you?'
Aramis refocused on Treville. He opened his mouth to respond but the man who always had a witty come back could not find any words at that moment. Aramis again looked back at Athos.
'I am not going to let you get away with this,' continued Treville, shaking Aramis to get him to look back at him, Treville's anger was making him red-faced, 'just because you are one of my best men, does not mean you will get off lightly.'
D'Artagnan wanted to say something, wanted to defend his brother, but found that he could not. What Aramis had done was wrong. Athos was not ready for a full-on fight. D'Artagnan had to agree with the Captain, Athos was not ready, and Aramis should not have pushed him.
'You are going to be lucky to just get away with a flogging,' said Treville, a few of the other men looked at each other. Treville rarely dished out corporal punishment and the thought of one of his best men being flogged was sobering.
'I may have you stripped of your commission for this,' finished Treville.
D'Artagnan had not seen Treville that angry often. It was not pleasant. Treville released Aramis shoving him with force toward Marc and another cadet.
'Take his weapons and lock him in his room, see that he does not leave.'
The two cadets did not move.
'NOW!'
After Treville screamed at them to move, they did, pushing a compliant Aramis ahead of them towards the sleeping quarters.
Aramis glanced across to Athos and Porthos again. D'Artagnan got the impression he was more concerned with Athos than himself and the punishment he now faced. Aramis looked despondent again.
As he was walked passed the other men some of them made disparaging remarks to him. Aramis looked down, not making eye contact with anyone. D'Artagnan watched until his friend was taken out of sight by the two cadets, who still both looked stunned by the turn of events.
'Away with you,' said Treville, 'find someplace else to be. Move.'
The other men started to move away, some left the garrison. A couple of the commissioned men shepherded a group of the cadets to the firing range. The men knew they just needed to disappear from Treville's sight for a while until their Captain had calmed down.
MMMM
Porthos looked up as a rather pale d'Artagnan joined him and the still panting Athos.
'Treville's going to have Aramis flogged,' he stated.
Porthos had not really been paying attention to what had been going on behind him. His focus had been on Athos who was close to passing out due to his quick breaths. Porthos had spent the last few minutes encouraging Athos to calm his breathing down.
He looked up at d'Artagnan unable to hide the shock and surprise on his face.
'Why did he do it?' asked Porthos, 'Aramis knows what Athos' capable of? Why'd he push him so hard? Forcing him to defend himself like that.'
D'Artagnan shrugged his shoulders, 'I don't know what got into him. He didn't say anything. He just let the cadets take him up to your room and lock him in...Treville's serious about having him flogged and he said he might strip him of his commission.'
Porthos was shocked, it was one thing to punish Aramis for what he had done, despite not approving of corporal punishment Porthos did agree that Aramis needed to be punished, but to take his commission from him? Porthos could not imagine Aramis being anything other than a soldier, a Musketeer.
Treville was still shouting at the other men and yelling at the stable boys to get back to work.
D'Artagnan looked down at Athos who seemed to have finally got his breathing under control.
'Is he alright?' he asked.
Porthos looked back at Athos, 'I don't know, he's not said anything.'
Athos managed to look up at them both, he was pale and shaking slightly. Porthos stood up and moved to pour him a drink of water, he handed the cup to him before sitting next to him on the bench.
'You with us Athos?' asked Porthos.
Athos took a few sips of the water, looking across the now empty yard. Treville was stood with his back to them watching the last of the men disappearing.
When Athos responded to Porthos it shocked both him and d'Artagnan.
'I have my memory back.'
MMMM
