AN: Since I have little patience, I've posted another chapter tonight. You can reward me with reviews ;)

Back on the road, Treville was struggling to regain some kind of order. Athos stood by him, calling instructions to Musketeers as they emerged from the woods. Some were carrying injured men. Others bore bodies.

As D'Artagnan approached, he heard Athos call softly to Treville, "Two dead, and another seven wounded, captain." Treville nodded and ducked into the king's carriage, where the king could be heard shrilly demanding to know the identity of his attackers.

Athos caught sight of him. "Where's Aramis?" he asked distractedly as D'Artagnan walked up. "There are men who need stitching, and he's the best we have." When D'Artagnan didn't answer immediately, Athos's eyes moved past him to fix on Porthos, and he froze. "Where is Aramis?" he asked again, and his voice was different somehow. He sounded almost afraid, more emotion in his voice than D'Artagnan was accustomed to hearing. Porthos met his eyes and slowly lifted a hand that trembled slightly to point back at the river.

"He was fighting some men at the cliff's edge," D'Artagnan said, feeling as if he were outside his body, looking down on the scene. It all seemed so surreal. "One of them wasn't dead and shot him. He fell into the river. We couldn't see him." Athos stared at him as if he didn't want to believe what he was hearing.

Treville emerged from the carriage looking harried. "Seems like we ran afoul of some common country bandits. The fools probably didn't even realize who they were attacking. I need the four of you to scout ahead and check the road is clear." When no one answered him, he looked around slowly. "…Wait. Where's Aramis?"

Athos turned and looked at him. "River." Treville blanched.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly after a moment.

Porthos's head snapped up. "Sorry?" he asked, speaking for the first time. There was a wild light in his eyes. D'Artagnan thought he looked dangerous. "Sorry for what, exactly? There's nothing to be sorry for. Aramis isn't dead." His voice cracked slightly on the last word. "That bullet hit him in the arm. He can swim. We need to go find him."

"Porthos, the current in that river is wild. There are rapids and rocks. Even if he was alive when he fell, he isn't now." Porthos shook his head stubbornly, glaring defiance at the captain as if he could will the words to be false.

D'Artagnan was torn. Logically, he knew Treville was right, but his heart wouldn't believe it until he saw a body. Aramis couldn't just be gone, could he?

"We need to find him," Athos said quietly.

"I can't send a search party right now without leaving the king undefended."

"The chances of another attack are slim," D'Artagnan argued. "How many roving bands of thieves can there be on the road to Lyon?"

"I still can't risk it." When Porthos opened his mouth to argue, Treville raised a hand. "I said I can't send a search party. That is my final word. You'll have to find him alone."

Porthos shut his mouth. D'Artagnan felt a rush of gratitude towards the captain for allowing them to go retrieve their friend, or more likely, his body. "I hope you find him," Treville added, voice soft with sympathy, as he turned back to the king's carriage.

The three men moved towards their horses, Porthos catching up the reins to Aramis's black stallion along with his own. They would ride downriver and begin their search.

As they rode through the forest, following the line of the cliff, D'Artagnan noticed Athos watching Porthos closely. Curious, he too turned his attention to the large Musketeer. Porthos was unusually silent and still looked decidedly pale. When Porthos urged his horse to greater speeds, D'Artagnan glanced over at Athos. "Why are you watching him?" he muttered, voice low so Porthos wouldn't hear.

Athos looked at him appraisingly. "It cannot have escaped your attention that Porthos is not acting his usual self. Until we find Aramis, I will be watching him very closely indeed, and you should too. He doesn't take this well, and he may grow reckless or aggressive."

'Doesn't take what well?" he asked with a frown.

Athos glanced at him. "Uncertainty," he said shortly.

"So, uncertainty will make him reckless?" D'Artagnan was feeling thoroughly confused.

Athos sighed, looking put upon. "He will be likely to act with no regard for his personal safety. Well, more likely than usual," he amended.

"But surely he's been through things like this before?" D'Artagnan asked. "Aramis is a great friend to us all, but Porthos is a soldier. He has lost friends before. Not that I think Aramis is dead," he added quietly, refusing to relinquish the hope. "I just don't understand Porthos's reaction."

"We have all lost friends before," Athos replied, putting a slight emphasis on the word. "This is different." Before D'Artagnan could ask what he meant by that, Athos had urged his horse forward to join Porthos.