Chapter Two

'…and why Aramis is not going to teach him.'

It was a few weeks later when the opportunity to take a few hours away from the garrison arrived. It was still warm, the summer sun blazing brightly. They trotted along in companionable silence, although Aramis suspected Porthos was a little nervous.

'The lake we are going to, it's shallow around the edge for several meters. You'll still be able to stand, and there are rocks dotted about which are handy if you wanted the reassurance of something solid to hold onto.'

Porthos nodded thoughtfully before saying, 'how did you learn? Did someone teach you?'

'Some of the older boys I used to hang around with threw me in a river when I was young,' Aramis shuddered at the memory, 'I nearly drowned…my father taught me after that.'

They carried on in silence for a few more minutes before the lake came into view. Aramis glanced across at Porthos who was admiring the view.

'Lovely isn't it,' he said.

'Beautiful,' replied Porthos.

The lake was calm, barely a ripple broke the surface of the clear water. They dismounted and stood for a few minutes taking in the view. Aramis started stripping off and looked over at Porthos who had not moved.

'Take your time, if you don't want to, we can try again another day.'

He was conscious of the big man's worry, and did not want to push the issue. They had both nearly drowned in their previous encounter with water. Once he was down to his braies he walked forward to the water's edge. He looked across to the rocks.

'I'll be over there,' he pointed at one of the rocks a few meters away, 'it's really not very deep up to that point, after that it gets deeper, but we don't need to go any further. The water won't come above your waist.'

He wanted to offer as much reassurance as he could, but equally did not want to molly coddle his friend. He started walking out, splashing through the cool water. He looked back at Porthos when he was about half way across, pleased to see him busy stripping off.

Aramis reached the rock he had been aiming at and climbed up onto it, he managed to find a smooth spot to sit on. The rock was more jagged than he had been expecting, but he was soon settled. He looked around to see Porthos just starting to walk across.

Porthos paused at the water's edge for a moment, a look of determination on his face. He took a few steps forward then took a deep shocked breath.

'Sorry, it's colder than it looks,' called Aramis with a laugh.

Porthos glared at him, 'I know that now.'

The musketeer continued to walk forward, up to his knees in the water now. Aramis was pleased that Porthos was keen to overcome his worry. The man was not particularly afraid of the water, but was apprehensive.

When Porthos was a few meters from him and up to his thighs in the water, Aramis decided to join him in the water. He stood up and was about to step down when the surface under his foot crumbled causing him to slip forward scraping his calf along the sharp rock painfully. The movement left him flailing his arms to regain his balance. He toppled backwards. The last thing he knew was an intense pain in the back of his head.

MMMM

'Aramis!' yelled Porthos as his friend fell.

Without even thinking he rushed forward, splashing through the water. Aramis had fallen into the calm water in front of the rock, he was lying face up, but still, floating silently buffeted by the disturbance in the water caused by Porthos' approach. He was clearly unconscious. Porthos had to reach him quickly or he would drown.

Porthos stopped a metres away from Aramis. He realised with horror that in the few seconds it had taken him to reach the spot, Aramis was floating right on the edge of the deeper part of the lake. The water was clear enough that he could see the drop off point. Porthos took a steadying breath, he tentatively took a step forward. He could still feel solid ground beneath him. He leaned forward and managed to grasp the unconscious musketeer's fingers.

Porthos was forced to take another step forward in order to get a solid grip on his friend. As his foot found the lake bed again he pulled Aramis closer to him. Aramis showed no sign of waking up. Porthos was glad his friend remained still, he would no doubt move suddenly if he were to wake and probably pull them both towards the deeper part of the lake where Porthos would struggled to help him and probably put them both in further danger.

Porthos was chest deep in the water, as he reached his arm under Aramis, to get a better hold. The slight backwards momentum caused the rock under his foot to shift. He lost his footing and splashed backwards. He let go of Aramis as he fell.

He desperately tried to find the lake bed. He knew he would be able to stand, but the buoyancy of the water made it difficult for him to regain his footing. At the same time he was reaching out for Aramis, who was now a meter away again. The fear of finding himself out of his depth played heavily on his mind. The near drowning a few weeks ago fresh in his mind.

Porthos decided grabbing Aramis was more important than standing. He somehow managed to lunge forward enough to hook his hand under the marksman's arm. He found the forward movement of the act pushed his legs down enough to reach the rocky lake bed.

Once firmly anchored he remained where he was for a few second, concentrating on getting his breathing into some state of normality. Aramis had not stirred. Porthos felt the back of the unconscious man's head, there was a bump but no blood. He was bleeding from a cut to his leg and one to his forearm, no doubt caused by his initial fall.

Slowly Porthos worked up the courage to make his way to the shore. Survival instincts replacing or repressing his initial fear.

Porthos dragged his friend with him, it took him sometime and he did not have the strength to carry him. He silently apologised to Aramis as his legs and feet were knocked by the small rocks that littered the shoreline.

MMMM

Once he had reached dry land Porthos laid his friend down. Aramis was breathing steadily but still unconscious. Porthos checked him for any other injuries. He was covered in cuts and scrapes and would no doubt develop plenty of bruises, but the cuts to his forearm and calf were the most serious. Both were bleeding and would need stitching and Porthos doubted Aramis would be able to stitch either himself.

After making Aramis as comfortable as he could and covering him with a cloak he quickly redressed. He hoped that his friend would remain unconscious, at least long enough for him to do the stitching in peace. He pushed Aramis onto his side so that he could get at the injury to the man's calf. The cut was longer than he had originally thought and took quite a few stitches to close. Once stitched he rocked back on his heels and admired what, for him, were fairly neat stitches. Clearly having a non-complaining patient made for a better working environment.

As he finished wrapping a bandage around Aramis' leg the wounded man finally stirred. Porthos laid his hand on Aramis' shoulder to stop him moving too much.

'What happened?' slurred the confused musketeer.

'It was your turn to fall in.'

Aramis looked at him confused, then he winced in pain, reaching up to feel the back of his head. He tried to sit up, Porthos helped him. Aramis looked at his leg seeing the bandage.

'Nasty cut on your calf, I stitched it,' said Porthos by way of explanation, 'I've still got to do the one on your arm.'

Aramis lifted his arm and looked at it confused.

'The other one.'

'Oh,' said Aramis as he examined his left forearm, the cut was still bleeding, blood staining the temporary bandage Porthos had wrapped around it. Porthos noted how pale his friend was and the slight shake in his arm as he held it up.

'I'll help you get dressed first, you're cold.'

Aramis nodded but stayed where he was. Porthos collected the marksman's clothes and between them they managed to get him dressed. Porthos put a cloak around Aramis' shoulders when they were done.

Aramis had been quiet for a while looking at Porthos. He finally said, 'how far did you have to go…to pull me out of the water?'

Porthos swallowed, not really wanting to relive the memory, 'far enough,' was the only reply he could give.

'Thank you,' said Aramis, looking away.

Porthos readied himself for his second stitching session. He was about to start when Aramis spoke again.

'I could probably do that myself,' he said.

Porthos looked at him, his face serious, 'Aramis, you have been unconscious for a while, you've lost some blood and you're cold...you're still shaking…do you honestly think you can do a better job than me at the moment?'

Aramis thought for a moment, Porthos could tell he was still a bit unfocused from his head injury. His friend shook his head and looked at Porthos with a smile.

'You're right.'

He held out his arm. Porthos began stitching. The cut not as serious as the one on his calf did not take long to deal with, although he did have to stop occasionally when Aramis showed signs of passing out. As he finished bandaging his friends arm Aramis said.

'I'm not going to teach you to swim.'

Porthos was a bit shocked at the sudden statement.

'Why? You're the one who offered, you said it would be a good idea.'

'It might be for you…but every time I get in the water with you, I need stitches.'

Aramis smiled at him, Porthos laughed.

The End.