Chapter V
Aramis nudged Elise's healthy shoulder so she would look at him. The right side of her face was already taking on a bluish shade where the bandit had hit her. Her lips were swollen. She painfully opened her eyes.
"You must trust me. You are safe now, but I need to tend to your wound or it will get infected. It's going to hurt, I apologise for it. Drink up."
"I beg your pardon?"
"Drink up," he repeated, helping her hold her head and presenting a bottle of brandy to her lips. "It will make you go to sleep so you won't feel a thing."
She still had enough energy to raise an eyebrow at him, but she obeyed, drinking as much as she could. Her throat was on fire and she was trying not to spit it out on her surgeon. After what seemed an eternity (only a few minutes in reality), her vision became blurry, and as she drifted to unconsciousness, she was not even afraid of the needle Aramis was preparing.
When she finally emerged from her alcohol-induced sleep, the room was dark and she could hear the sound of rain against the windows. Someone had lit a fire so she did not feel cold. However, she tried to move, and there was pain in every single part of her body from her head to her toes.
She abandoned the idea of standing up even though she needed to speak with someone. She had to understand what had happened today. She had been aware that her young brother was wrecking havoc with his "friends" and that their parents were not at all happy about it, but she would have never imagined it would lead to this. She had never witnessed so much violence in her twenty years of existence.
What about her parents? Tears ran down her face when the memory of her father trying to protect them and being shot down appeared in her mind. It would be a miracle if he was still alive. And her mother? One of the men who invaded the house had stabbed her, Elise remembered it. She may have survived the wound. The Musketeers may know of her fate. She tried once again to move yet her heard started to spin. Whether it was from the alcohol or from the pain, she did not know. Probably both.
She heard footsteps and voices in the distance. Two of them were familiar. Turning her head as much as she could without causing too much pain, Elise tried to hear what they were saying. There was a talk about putting someone in a prison until they could learn more. Then, the tone changed as if they were interrogating a person who clearly was in no mood to cooperate.
"Porthos, no!" Aramis exclaimed, stopping his friend from hitting the criminal once again. Porthos had come back with a magistrate and two of his aids. They had all been shocked by the news of the attack. The criminal who had been tied up had regained consciousness, but he refused to say a word. The Musketeer did not have patience for this sort of man.
"Fine, deal with him the way you want. Still, a few more blows could help quicken his confession."
"This is not the way we deliver justice, Sir." This foreign voice was squealing. Elise did not like the sound of it. Someone was coming closer to her position. From where she was lying, she noticed only his back but he was wearing a uniform. She could trust him.
"Please?" Her words came out hoarse. Her throat was dry. Porthos heard her anyway. Turning around, he came to her side. "What's happened?"
"You need not worry, Miss. Everything is under control. How are you feeling?"
"My parents... Are they...?" She could not bear saying the rest out loud for fear it would be bad luck. The tall and dark Musketeer took her hand in his. He looked sincerely sad. His face was the only answer she needed.
"I'm deeply sorry. There was nothing we could do for them." Elise turned her head to face the sofa so he could not see the tears spilling from her eyes. It was a nightmare and she would soon wake from it. There was no other explanation for this barbarity. "Are you feeling better? Can I be of any help?"
She shook her head. She wished to be alone for now. Her body was rocked by her sobs and slowly, she drifted back to sleep.
Porthos and Aramis were sitting near the fireplace, eating sourly their ration of food. They were silent, the events of the day replaying in both their minds. The magistrate had taken the bandit back to Orléans, and he had arranged for the bodies to be brought to the prison the next day. It was dark outside. The girl was still sleeping soundly in the sofa, Portho's cape draped around her to keep her warm. Aramis knew well enough that stitching up a wound was not the end of it. He could only hope that keeping her warm and changing her bandage often would prevent any infection or fever.
"What are we going to tell the Captain?" Porthos asked.
"What do you think? We tell him the truth. We tell him his sister and his brother-in-law were murdered because of his nephew."
"He'll be thrilled."
"And we tell him we killed most of the suspects but there may still be a chance of finding out who commissioned the operation. And we tell him we saved his niece."
"What are we to do with her?"
"I don't think we have much of a choice. Most of the servants are wounded and left with no intention of coming back. It is not a safe place any more. We will take her with us, bring her to the family she had left."
"I wonder where the boy is. If you want my opinion, he deserves a severe scolding for what he has caused."
"I could not agree more. But it is not our decision to take. Young boys can be so foolish sometimes!" Aramis growled. Porthos sniggered.
"As if you did not make any mistake when you were young."
"Perhaps I did," he said, thinking of Isabelle, their almost-marriage and the lost child. "Even so, it did not end up with an entire family decimated." Porthos agreed and they finished their meal in silence.
Before going to sleep, Aramis checked on Elise's wounds. Her forehead was not overly hot so it was a good sign. He applied a fresh bandage to her shoulder, inspecting the needlework to make sure it was solid. Then, he pressed a wet cloth to her lips, trying to wake her up so she would eat something. He was unsuccessful.
The night was not quiet. Elise had many nightmares and even attacked Porthos when he tried to calm her down. Who would have thought that an injured girl could be so aggressive? When she was not screaming in her sleep, she was crying out softly, small whimpers peppered with pleas to let her go.
Dawn came too soon for the three of them. Elise was numbed by the pain so she did not speak one word to her saviours, merely acknowledging the piece of bread she was given to eat. She nibbled on it, sitting on the sofa. Her legs had regained enough strength to carry her on a small distance, that is to Porthos's horse. The Musketeers had explained their plan to take her back to Paris with them. She did not argue considering that she hardly had a say in the matter. There was nothing left for her here.
They hardly spoke on the road. It was still raining on them and although they were not going at a fast pace, the horse's movements were hurting Elise. Yet, she did not want to say anything or they would never reach their destination. She longed to be reunited with her uncle, to be in a safe place where she could grieve. Only when she almost fell from the horse did they stop. Porthos's arms were securely keeping her close to him on the saddle, but she clearly was too weak to continue, especially since she had not managed to eat anything since breakfast.
"She needs to rest. We should halt for today."Aramis was in agreement with this.
It was late afternoon when they found a hostel. Stating they were on a mission for the King, nobody asked them any questions. They requested a large room for the three of us. Leaving Elise by herself was out of the question, even if all the rules of decorum spoke against an unmarried girl sharing her room with two soldiers. This problem did not seem to cross her mind since she once again fell asleep without eating anything.
It was actually hunger which woke her up in the middle of the night. Someone was snoring in another bed. The room was warm thanks to a small fire. Her body was less painful already, and her face hurt less than the day before. She was about to walk out the door to find some food when she heard a voice behind her.
"You should sleep some more. We don't want you to be trampled by a horse if you fall down again."
"I didn't fall."
"Almost. Porthos may not have the same reflexes next time. You were rather lucky, I must say." There was a mocking edge to Aramis's words and she walked in his direction, next to the fire.
"I feel a little bit better, but I'm quite hungry."
"You may eat this. It's all we have left, I'm afraid." He handed her a piece of bread and some cheese. She ate them slowly, her back to the fire, the flames warming her up and making her feel slightly more alive.
"Might I look at your shoulder?" Aramis inquired once she had finished. She nodded and he stood up. Elise knew he only meant to check if she was healing correctly, but she was not used to a physician being so attractive. She shuddered when he touched her skin, and she had to hide her face so he would not see her blush. It hurt a little when he probed her wound.
"It's healing nicely. I was worried the ride would loosen the stitches but they are holding up fine."
"I was not aware Musketeers made so great surgeons as well."
"I thank you, but my skills are quite limited."
"My uncle used to send me letters telling me about his life in Paris, you know. He would talk about the Court and the King. He knew I loved reading about this flamboyant way of life. What I enjoyed the most, though, were his tales about Musketeers. He may even have mentioned you once or twice, if I recall correctly."
"I can only hope the Captain did not say anything inconvenient about me."
"Let me think...Aramis..." He was watching her intently, glad to see a little improvement in her behaviour. It was the most talking he had heard her do since they had met. "Aramis...Oh yes, Uncle wrote about how you won a shooting challenge against your friend and you would not stop boasting about it for days. He did say it was annoying."
"That sounds about right," Aramis conceded, smiling proudly. Elise returned the smile.
"That's pretty," she added, pointing to the cross hanging around his neck. She would not have thought that soldiers carried such religious objects. After all, their missions often led them to perform acts that God may disapprove. What had happened in her house was proof enough. Aramis looked down, moving the cross between his fingers. The rubies shone in the light of the fire.
"It was a gift. For saving someone's life. It never leaves me. It is a good protection in a dangerous life."
"I wonder how my life will look like now," Elise sighed, sitting down by the chimney. He followed suite. She looked so frail, and he did not really know how to help. Her entire life had shattered in a couple of hours, everything she knew was now gone. "Where is my brother? What will happen to me in Paris?"
"Captain Tréville will know what to do. We will find your brother. He is young so he must not have gone very far, especially if these men are still looking for him. We'll find him and we'll protect him so no harm may be done to him."
"Do you actually think so? It is frightening how someone so young can have made so many mistakes already. I had this strange feeling it would end badly. I wish I had been wrong."
"You should not torture yourself, Mademoiselle. It is not your fault. When a young man sets his mind on some goal, there is no reasoning him."
"Do you speak from experience?"
"You could say that."
Elise smiled a little more. It was comforting to have a quiet conversation even when the subject was of so much importance. She was not used to talking to men this way. Usually, they were only complimenting her on her looks, hoping to gain her favours and thus those of her father. But all things considered, she was not used to being beaten, to having her shoulder stitched up or to leaving her beloved home with two men she had just met either.
"I should get back to my bed," she eventually decided. She felt better after their talk. Rested, even. Aramis grabbed her elbow to help her stand up.
"I will be nearby if you need me."
And indeed, when Elise woke up from a nightmare a couple of hours later, he was at her side, shushing and reassuring her, as if he had been waiting for something like this to happen. It was what she needed to finally get some unbroken sleep.