Authors note: Thanks for the reviews as always. Last chapter.

Chapter Five

Athos rode his horse hard. The beast was sweating and snorting, he knew it would not last much longer. He pulled the horse back to a canter then down to a trot for a few minutes. He was entering Paris and could afford to slow down. He headed for the garrison. The darkening sky was not a welcoming sight for him. He was worried about his brothers. With both Aramis and d'Artagnan injured a night exposed to the elements would not be easy. He could only hope the danger had passed and they had been able to continue their journey. He hoped, but doubted the reality would mirror his hope.

As he entered the garrison yard he dismounted and after throwing the reins to one of the stable boys he climbed the stairs and knocked on Treville's door.

He heard Treville telling him to enter, he pushed the door open, he did not wait to be invited to speak.

'I have the intelligence, but I need to go back and help the others.'

Treville looked up from his work, he took in the one man in front of him.

'How many men will you need?'

Athos was pleased Treville was prioritising his men over the intelligence.

'As many as you can spare. With luck they will not be needed, but I would rather be cautious.'

'I'll see to it. They will be ready when you are back from the Palace.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Athos as he turned to leave.

'Are they OK?'

Athos stopped, his hand on the door handle, he turned back to Treville, 'Aramis and d'Artagnan are injured, we could not outrun our pursuers together. I hope to find them well when I return to them, but the man who tried to extract the intelligence from us was…sadistic, in his methods.'

Treville nodded, 'I'll get the men prepared…deliver the intelligence.'

Athos nodded, knowing that Treville would be true to his word.

MMMM

They were stuck in a standoff. The hoped-for disappearance of their enemies had not occurred. When the leader had fallen to the floor, there had been a few minutes of chaotic indecision from the men below them. A few of the men had left but the majority had stayed. It had not taken them long to locate the musketeers. But as predicted the men could not reach them.

A couple of attempts had been thwarted, Porthos and Aramis had managed to take out four men between them with d'Artagnan limiting himself to reloading the guns. As the men retreated the second time it became clear that nothing further was going to happen until dawn. It was too dangerous for the men to climb the narrow path that led to the musketeers and the failing light meant that the musketeers were struggling to make their shots count.

Aramis shivered, as they pushed themselves back under the overhanging rock, he wished they had been able to bring his doublet. In just his shirt sleeves he knew he was in for an uncomfortable night.

'Cold?'

'Of course, I'm cold,' snapped Aramis, regretting it instantly, Porthos looked at him sympathetically, 'sorry, but this is so frustrating.'

'I know, Athos will be back with reinforcements, I'm sure of it…how's our ammunition doing?'

D'Artagnan looked up from his slow methodical, one handed work. He was busy sorting out their weapons and supplies, 'not good, we have to make it count.'

Aramis was looking at d'Artagnan carefully, 'all that noise can't have been good for your head…have we still got my medical bag?'

Porthos reached behind him and found the bag he had dumped in the corner of their small shelter.

'Sorry I didn't think of this before,' said Aramis as he opened the bag and pulled out some herbs, 'try these, it might help a bit with the pain.'

'What about you, you're in as much pain as me?'

'It will only help with your head, I've nothing that can help our other injuries, we've not been anywhere recently that I could collect the right plants for that.'

'Witchcraft,' huffed Porthos as he took the bag from Aramis when he had finished.

'My, witchcraft, has helped you on more than one occasion my friend,' said Aramis with a smile, before he shivered again.

Porthos chuckled before shuffling closer to Aramis who found d'Artagnan had done the same. Huddling together was probably the only way they would make it through the night. The rocks they were sat on offered no warmth, they sat in silence, jealously looking at the campfires below.

MMMM

When Athos returned to the garrison he found a dozen men waiting for him, including the Captain.

'I'm coming as well, I won't be missed for a few hours.'

Athos nodded his thanks as he mounted a fresh horse. They trotted out of the garrison, the early hours of the morning were quiet on the streets, meaning they could move at pace. Athos hoped they would make good time and be back to the spot he had left his brothers quickly.

'How many men are we likely to face?'

'I did not see how many were following us, the castle we were held in was big, I would expect a sizeable number, but the area I left them in was narrow, the landscape will be on our side.'

'And the injuries that Aramis and d'Artagnan carry?'

'D'Artagnan was shot in the arm, he lost blood, he also banged his head. Aramis was tortured by the man from the castle, the man used a knife to remove skin from his back. They are both in considerable pain.'

Treville's expression was one of disgust, 'whatever happened to simply beating a man for information?'

'I believe our captor wanted to make an impact.'

As they cleared the streets of the city the men pushed the horses on to a gallop. The dawn light helping them progress with ease.

MMMM

Now that his head no longer ached d'Artagnan felt a lot more focused. His arm throbbed but he could withstand the pain for now. As the night had progressed Aramis had eventually fallen asleep or passed out, he was leaning against d'Artagnan unable to lean back due to his injury.

Porthos had moved forward a few times to peer over the edge of the rockface and check on their enemy.

'They are having quite a party down there. I think they have wine, I can't make out who's put themselves in charge, there are a couple of men who look like they think they are in charge,' said Porthos as he sat back.

'It's getting light, how long before they try to reach as again?' asked d'Artagnan as he tried to rearrange Aramis who was in danger of slumping into the rear of their shallow cave.

Porthos helped him move the unresponsive man before speaking, 'I think they will try soon. I'm not sure how long we can 'old them back though, if he doesn't wake up again, it's only gonna be me shooting.'

'I can shoot,' said d'Artagnan, Porthos looked at him unsure, 'my head doesn't hurt anymore.'

Porthos nodded his understanding, 'in that case, let's get ourselves sorted out then, see if you can wake him up.'

D'Artagnan tried to rouse the marksman but on getting no response after a couple of minutes he looked back to Porthos with concern.

'He's still shivering, he's OK for now,' said Porthos as he began to undo his doublet. He took the jacket off and after they had moved Aramis to the side of their temporary home he covered the unconscious man with it, 'probably should have done that earlier.'

'No Porthos, you're the only one of the three of us unharmed, we need you fit, not stiff with cold.'

Porthos nodded in reluctant agreement.

Movement below drew their attention.

'Ready for round two?' asked Porthos.

D'Artagnan nodded.

MMMM

Porthos was more worried about their situation than he let on to the younger man. Aramis was unconscious and needed to be warmed up sooner rather than later. And they were running out of ammunition. They were outnumbered and, Porthos suspected, he would be the only one keeping the enemy at bay very shortly. D'Artagnan was still in pain and looked pale. Porthos knew the man would not last much longer.

'Give yourselves up,' came a voice from below, 'you may have killed our leader, but we can still get our money for the information, we will be getting it from you one way or the other. I'm sure we could practice our skinning skills on your unconscious friend some more.'

Porthos and d'Artagnan looked around. The men must have had a clear line of sight towards them to know that Aramis was unconscious. Their situation had not improved. If the men had a line of sight and were close enough to fire a weapon, they could be picked off before they could react.

'I can't see anyone…perhaps their guessing?'

'They may not be watching us now, but the fact that they can ain't good,' replied Porthos as he continued to scan the cliffs on the other side of the road, 'I don't think there is anywhere close enough for them to shoot us, but they know we are down to two…and they'll know you're injured as well. They have the upper hand.'

They looked back down towards the men, who were clearly preparing an assault on their position. With far more enemy men than they had ammunition the odds were stacked against them.

Porthos was about to turn to d'Artagnan when a familiar rumble caught their attention. They both smiled, help had arrived. The soldiers rounding the curve of the road were a welcome sight. The men below them looked over. A few turned and ran without stopping to gather anything. The two self-appointed leaders tried to rally their troops but failed as more men ran or quickly mounted up and galloped away.

A few shots were fired, Porthos saw Treville fire at a man who ran towards him and Athos shot one of the two leaders. As more and more of the men ran a number of the musketeers pursued them. Within minutes the camp had been secured. A few men were captured, but most had run.

Porthos sighed with relief, 'that was too close for my liking.'

He looked around to d'Artagnan who had sagged back against the rocks, the exhaustion clear on his face, but he managed a smile.

MMMM

Athos looked his friends over. Aramis, who had regained consciousness, had been put as close to the campfire as they could get him, his shivering had noticeably subsided. Porthos had given him and d'Artagnan some purloined broth. The escaping men had left before they could enjoy their meal. Porthos was sat watching them both.

'You certainly timed that well,' said Porthos as Athos sat beside him.

'Yes,' replied Athos, 'we did. Were you about to make a one-man last stand?'

D'Artagnan coughed.

'Sorry two-man last stand,' said Athos acknowledging the younger man.

'We wouldn't 'ave stood a chance.'

'No, but at least the intelligence has been passed along,' said Aramis as he finished the broth.

'Are we quite mad to be prepared to sacrifice our own lives?' asked d'Artagnan.

'When we know that by doing so our actions will save many more lives, I do not think that is madness,' pointed out Athos.

D'Artagnan nodded, 'true…although the people we've saved probably won't thank us.'

'They will not know they have been saved,' said Athos, 'they will continue their lives oblivious to the situation that information has averted…that they will continue to live should be thanks enough.'

'I suppose you are right,' said d'Artagnan, 'but a little recognition wouldn't go amiss occasionally.'

Porthos turned to d'Artagnan and, after clearing his throat, said with mock authority, 'Well done, on saving lives.'

D'Artagnan thumped him, then winced as the action jogged his injured arm. Athos rolled his eyes and shook his head whilst Porthos and Aramis struggled to suppress laughter.

The End.

Authors note: I hope you enjoyed it.