CHAPTER 20
"Aramis, you and I will go across first. I can help steady you if need be. Once you are safely on the other side, I will come back for Athos…"
"I won't endanger you…" Athos broke in but d'Artagnan kept talking.
"Now I have seen you ride a horse in every condition, injured and even asleep. You have a natural instinct and seat. So, you will straddle the end of the tree, just past the roots, as if it were Roger. Then I will cut the rope securing it to the island, push off the end, and join you on our watery steed. The tree will hit the current and be dragged towards the middle of the river until it reaches the end of the rope on that side of the river." He pointed over to where Porthos stood, feeling helpless.
"I will take the rope tied to our end of the trees and toss it to Porthos on the bank. I believe, if we can get two-thirds of the way towards the bank, the rope will reach. Then, the mighty Porthos pulls us up against the shore and we disembark."
Aramis gave him a skeptical look as he listened. "You will both get wet, at least from the waist down."
"Better than totally wet by falling in," d'Artagnan quipped. "And Porthos and I both have a spare, dry, set of braies and pants in our saddlebag we can change into afterwards. Porthos' clothes will more than fit Athos."
"With some to spare," Athos muttered under his breath.
"And your boots?" Aramis asked. "They will get wet and I know you don't have a spare set of those. And I can tell you from experience that they take forever to dry."
The Gascon paused, not having thought of their boots. "Can we survive without them? Avoid frostbite?"
Aramis wasn't one hundred percent sure on the timing; he tried to judge it from his field experience in the winter. "Yes, for a short time. Maybe 30 minutes. As soon as you get ashore you'd have to dry off, put on the dry clothes and get warm."
"Then it's a plan."
"I'll go get the blankets from the campsite and Athos' dagger is still there. You can wrap up in the blankets until d'Artagnan comes back for you," Aramis said as he turned to go.
"No," Athos declared firmly.
Knowing that was not what Athos was protesting, but trying to distract him, Aramis said, "What? You want to get the blankets? Alright, but it will take you a long time and you will miss my balancing act on the tree."
"This is too risky. D'Artagnan will get wet and in this weather that is deadly. It's too dangerous. I'll go by myself."
At least Athos was acknowledging he was in no shape to balance on the log. But he also was in no shape to ride the tree by himself. D'Artagnan walked over to his mentor and stared him straight in the eye. "All for one and one for all. This is a good plan with acceptable risks. I'll not stand on the other shore and watch you die."
"It's settled then," Aramis declared. "Wait here with d'Artagnan. I'll be back in a flash. I want to get the blankets and the knife."
It took longer than Aramis would have liked to make the short trip to and from their campsite, but he could only get his cold, weary body to move so fast. He could have sent d'Artagnan, but he felt him keeping an eye on Athos was a better idea. He grabbed the two blankets, Athos' knife which he stuck in his waistband and said a last prayer of thanks for God to watch over whoever this campsite belonged to for it had saved his and Athos' life.
Once back on the island's shore, Aramis handed the blankets to Athos as he worriedly glanced at the fading light. "Fold it up and sit on one. Wrap the other around you, especially your feet since I'm taking your boots."
"Let me," d'Artagnan said as walked over to Aramis, grabbed one of the blankets and folded it into a nice pad.
D'Artagnan was about to drop it on the ground when Aramis yelled. "Wait." The marksman walked into the woods and came back a minute later with an armful of pine boughs. He arranged them on the ground and then motioned for d'Artagnan to place the folded-up cushion on top. "Insulation."
"Your throne awaits, oh Comte," Aramis declared with a flourish. "Please take your seat so your footman can remove your boots."
"Comte's do not have thrones," Athos groused, though he did carefully lower his body onto the blanket.
"But they do have footman." Aramis waved to d'Artagnan. "If you'd be so kind as to remove the Comte de la Fére's boots."
Athos' eyes flashed dangerously. "Servants make me…uncomfortable"
"Good, because I'm not a servant, even though you all treat me like one at times," d'Artagnan said as he wrapped his hands around Athos' right boot.
"New musketeer…" Aramis reminded him.
"Yeah, yeah I have heard that all before." With a tug, the boot slid off Athos' foot. D'Artagnan handed the footwear to Aramis and then worked on the left side. "Are you sure Captain Treville hasn't hired any other new musketeers since me. I think he must have. Why aren't you giving them your menial tasks."
The boot slid off with a pop and d'Artagnan handed it to Aramis who promptly gave them both back to the lad. "You have the, ah, honor, of carrying the Comte's boots." Even outside in the fresh air they were a little ripe.
Lifting the boots higher and giving them a shake, d'Artagnan declared, "Menial."
Suddenly, they realized Athos had dropped out of the witty exchange and they looked over at the man who was sitting, arms wrapped around his drawn-up knees and violently shivering. Aramis hurried over and wrapped the second blanket he'd been holding around the shivering man as tight as possible. "He's in the chilly phase of his fever. Great timing."
"Will he be alright here?" d'Artagnan asked Aramis, though Athos was the one who answered.
"Unless you plan to wait until morning, or do this in total darkness, you'd better get moving," Athos commanded in his take-no-prisoners Lieutenant's voice.
The other two musketeers realized he was right after they glanced at the sky.
"Ok, let's do this," d'Artagnan declared as he moved over to the tree and stepped up on its trunk.
Aramis patted Athos on the shoulder and slowly made his way over to the tree bridge. As he went to step up on it, with d'Artagnan's helping hand, he suddenly realized this wasn't going to be that easy. Maybe, he should ride the horse-log too, but he quickly banished that thought from his mind as there would not be enough dry clothes for all of them. It was important they stay dry and warm, for Aramis had no idea where the nearest shelter was on the other side of the river. As he took his first cautious step forward, he wondered it Porthos or d'Artagnan knew where to find shelter.
