Chapter Four

Aramis would have liked to move to d'Artagnan's side but knew he would have struggled and did not want to cause a distraction. Instead, he watched as Porthos gently tried to rouse d'Artagnan. The younger man moaned and slowly opened his eyes, when he tried to move his injured arm Porthos stopped him, but not before a hiss of pain passed d'Artagnan's lips.

'You were shot…do you remember?' said Porthos quietly as d'Artagnan managed to focus on the big musketeer.

D'Artagnan blinked a few times and for a moment Aramis thought he had passed out but then he opened his eyes fully.

'It hurts…was I hit on the head?'

'No, you were pushed into a door, banged the back of your head…do you remember?'

Aramis watched as Porthos tried to assess the state of d'Artagnan's memory without worrying the young man. If they were to bombard him with questions about the intelligence that only he knew the musketeer might have become flustered trying to remember.

'We were in the castle…Aramis?'

'I'm fine,' said Aramis from his place to the right of d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan managed to turn his head slowly to look at him. Aramis could see he was not focused.

'You were hurt.'

'Yes, but I'll be OK…do you remember me being hurt?'

If he could remember their time in the dungeon he would be on his way to remembering the fight in the tavern.

'I wanted to tell the man…I could have prevented it…I'm sorry.'

'What did you want to tell the man?' asked Porthos trying to refocus d'Artagnan.

D'Artagnan took a few breaths his eyes wandered, looking around the cave.

'Where are we? Athos?'

'Gone to get the horses. We're in a cave just outside the castle.'

Aramis was starting to worry. D'Artagnan was becoming more unfocused he looked around for a few more seconds before closing his eyes again. Porthos looked across to Aramis and shook his head, the young man had passed out again.

'He remembered some things,' said Aramis, although he knew he did not sound very confident.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before d'Artagnan awoke.

'What happened? Why does my arm hurt?'

'You were shot, do you remember?'

Aramis wondered if they would have exactly the same conversation again, although d'Artagnan did seem more focused this time.

'In the castle. Escaping. Aramis?'

'I was injured, but I'll be OK. You hit your head,' Aramis paused before deciding to just ask the question, 'can you remember the intelligence you got from the man in the tavern?'

They both waited.

D'Artagnan looked at Porthos then turned to Aramis, he looked a little confused.

'Of course I do…'

Both men breathed out sighs of relief.

'Sorry,' said Porthos, 'Aramis thought you might have forgotten after banging your head.'

'I was not the only one concerned,' retorted Aramis with a smirk closely followed by a hiss of pain.

D'Artagnan tried to sit up but Porthos put a hand on his chest stopping him, 'slowly, don't mind 'im for a minute,' he said nodding towards Aramis who was grimacing in pain.

'Sorry,' said Aramis.

Porthos slowly helped d'Artagnan to sit up, Aramis looked at him carefully. The young man did not appear to be unfocused and confused any more.

They all looked towards the mouth of the cave as they heard footsteps.

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Athos stopped a few paces into the cave he looked expectantly at Porthos, who did not get a chance to speak.

'I'm fine.'

'I remembered the intelligence.'

Porthos nodded his agreement, 'we were a bit worried the first time 'e came around, but he's fine now.'

'There is no sign of movement from the castle yet, but it is only a matter of time. I have moved the horses to the bottom of the path,' Athos paused before walking further into the cave, 'tell us the intelligence…just in case.'

'Your confidence in my survival all the way back to Paris is comforting,' said d'Artagnan with a grin.

Once Athos was settled they listened intently as d'Artagnan repeated what their contact had told him as he was dying in the tavern hours beforehand. Once all the men knew the intelligence it would not matter if only one of them made it back to Paris. It was sobering for them all to know that the information was more important than any of them. But this intelligence had the potential to save many lives which was heartening for them.

They gathered their weapons, Aramis managed to put one of his belts back on, Porthos took the other one. Athos helped d'Artagnan to pull his doublet back on over his injured arm before making a sling from spare bandages.

He led them out of the cave with caution, they all looked with apprehension at the castle. Athos was surprised they had not seen any sign of a search being made, their escape had not been quiet, and they would have been missed from the dungeon by now.

As they reached the horses a problem occurred to him, two of them were injured and might not be able to ride.

'Provided we don't go too fast, I should be OK on my own,' said Aramis as if reading Athos' mind.

'I agree,' said d'Artagnan walking up to his horse, 'although I wouldn't mind a hand up.'

Porthos chuckled and stepped forwards to help d'Artagnan mount up. Athos helped Aramis who struggled to do so without a whimper of pain.

'Are you sure about riding alone?' asked Athos quietly.

'Now that I am up, I should be OK,' replied the marksman with a smile.

Although he knew it would take them some time, they set off at a steady trot, Athos kept a close eye on the two injured men. True to his word Aramis appeared to be coping with the ride, d'Artagnan had paled a little as the movement of the horse was agitating his concussion. Athos decided quite early on that once they were a safe distance from the castle he would ride on alone and pass the intelligence on to those that needed it in Paris.

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As they continued their trot Athos had outlined his plan. Porthos was in full agreement. D'Artagnan, although trying to hide it, was clearly suffering and Aramis would not last much longer despite his assurances that he was fine. They planned to stop at a tavern whilst Athos carried on. Porthos estimated a couple of days rest for both injured men would mean they could ride with less issues.

They all looked at each other when the sound of galloping horses reached them. There time was up. Athos glanced at each of his brothers.

'Go,' said Aramis, 'we'll be fine.'

With a reluctant nod Athos pushed his horse forward and disappeared along the road. Porthos watched him go for a few seconds. They probably had a few minutes to find somewhere to hide.

'You should go as well, we'll hide somewhere,' said d'Artagnan to Porthos.

'Oh no, you ain't getting rid of me that easily,' replied Porthos with a firm stare at both his friends.

'We need somewhere to hide, and quickly,' said Aramis looking around.

Porthos nodded towards a rocky cliff edge. The area around the castle was filled with ravines and sheer cliffs, one of which loomed up beside them. D'Artagnan dismounted and slapped his horse's rump, the beast trotted forward and disappeared off the road into a copse of trees. Porthos did the same and turned to Aramis who had not managed to dismount, the man had got as far as slipping his feet out of the stirrups and leaned forward. Now he was frozen, his eyes screwed shut in pain, the action of trying to dismount on his own had tugged at his wound. Porthos grabbed his friend around the waist and pulled him down. When Aramis cried out in pain Porthos clamped his hand over the injured mans mouth to smother the sound despite the fact he doubted their pursuers would have heard.

'Come on, they'll be here soon,' said d'Artagnan pulling at Porthos' arm as the he tried to keep Aramis from collapsing to the floor.

'I'm OK, it's OK,' panted Aramis. Porthos took his arm and dragged the marksman along as he followed d'Artagnan.

They clambered up the cliff face along a narrow path, Porthos was forced to let Aramis walk on his own, but kept his arm out to grab the man if he were to veer too close to the drop on his right. D'Artagnan stopped at a large overhanging rock, there was space beneath it that they could push themselves into. The spot could be defended. The enemy could not approach from the other direction, the narrow path disappeared a few yards from the overhang and the rock was too sheer for anyone to climb up. The only way to reach the overhanging rock was to follow the same path they had.

'You do realise we are now trapped here?' said Porthos glancing back the way they had come. He knew there would not be time to retreat before their pursuers rounded the bend in the road.

'With any luck they will just ride passed us,' replied d'Artagnan as he stood to the side to allow a pale Aramis to move under the overhanging rock.

Porthos crouched down beside his friend who looked close to passing out. D'Artagnan slipped in beside them. They waited in silence and watched the road intently. The sound of the horses was close. Within a few seconds they rounded the bend and came into sight. Porthos counted a dozen men, including their leader. As they thundered passed the leader sat up and slowed his horse. The other men followed suit. All of them had come to a halt within a hundred yards of the Musketeers hiding place.

The leader looked to his left at the copse of trees the horses had all wandered into. Porthos could tell they had been spotted.

'I know you are nearby,' called the man, 'I know two of you are injured and I know you only have a limited amount of ammunition. I can wait you out. I can wait as long as it takes my friends…give yourselves up.'

The three musketeers kept themselves still and pushed as far back as they could manage. Porthos leaned out a little, the leader was directing the men to set up camp. In the failing light he realised they would be spending the night where they were, with little protection, surrounded by men who wanted to torture and kill them.

But at least their chosen hiding place was defensible, he thought with amusement.

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D'Artagnan was glad the others seemed not to have noticed how much pain he was in. His head was pounding from the horse ride and the panic that had ensued when they had to find somewhere to hide. Now that they were hidden he could not settle, he could not relax, they had to remain on alert. They could be found at any moment.

Aramis, who was sitting forward slightly next to him looked pale. D'Artagnan wondered which of them was in the worse state. He decided it was probably pretty even, although Aramis did not have a head injury to deal with. D'Artagnan closed his eyes as a wave of pain washed over him. He felt a hand resting on his leg.

'Try to sleep for a bit, we can watch them for now,' said Aramis quietly.

'We need to stay alert…I'm fine,' replied d'Artagnan.

'Have you been takin' lessons from him?' asked Porthos as he indicated Aramis who smiled at the remark.

'Really, it's fine, my head aches and my arm hurts but really, it's fine,' d'Artagnan smirked as he spoke despite the pain.

Porthos rolled his eyes and went back to watching the men below. D'Artagnan managed to lean forward a little and observe the camp being set up. The men had corralled their horses, along with those belonging to the musketeers, and were watering them. Two campfires were being set up and a couple of men appeared to be preparing food.

'They look like they're well prepared,' said Aramis with a sigh, 'they really are going to wait us out…'

When Aramis paused, staring at something intently, d'Artagnan tried to work out what the man was looking at.

'What?'

'Porthos?'

'Hmm?'

'Do you think you could take out the leader? The shot would reach him, he's perfectly placed.'

'I thought you were the marksman?'

'My hands are shaking too much…I can admit to fallibility occasionally,' said Aramis with a hint of humour in his eyes.

D'Artagnan watched Porthos assessing the shot. The big musketeer nodded to himself before pulling his gun from his belt and checking it was over. The light was fading, if Porthos was to make the shot it would have to be now.

'If we can take out the leader, it goes one of two ways,' said Aramis, 'the other men will either leave, as they are just following orders and if there is no one to order them around anymore they won't care about us…'

'Or they will attack us seeking revenge, because we have taken out their beloved leader,' finished Porthos as he lined up the gun.

'This will give our hiding spot away,' pointed out d'Artagnan unnecessarily.

Aramis nodded, 'I think it's worth the risk.'

Porthos fired the gun. The leader fell to the ground, a neat wound in his head.

'Good shot,' said Aramis quietly.

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