Aramis had finally healed well enough that Treville put him back on half-duty, working in the weapons building. He was so happy to be back again, he just smiled at everyone.
The first evening back on duty, his brothers took him out to their favorite tavern to eat and relax together. They took turns trying to out-do each other with tall tales for several hours, before Porthos indicated to Athos with a sideways look that Aramis was half-asleep and trying to hide it. Athos called it a night over Aramis' half-hearted protests, and they all filed out the door.
As they were walking back to the garrison, Aramis seemed to get a new burst of energy, and began telling his tall tales again, having his brothers in stitches.
It was just as they were passing an old run-down tavern that d'Artagnan noticed movement above their heads. Glancing upwards, he sprang into action, grabbing Aramis, who had been in front, and pulling him sideways to the ground. Athos and Porthos were about to question their newest brother about what he had just done when loose tiles began raining down to the ground from the tavern's roof, clattering as they hit the ground, one after another.
They all just stared at the potential disaster they had avoided. Then, Athos noticed that d'Artagnan's forehead was bloody.
"Are you all right?" he asked the young Gascon.
D'Artagnan, in the heat of the moment, hadn't noticed he was bleeding, or felt any pain. Now that he was still, he could feel pain across his forehead. Lifting a hand, he wiped away the blood that was dribbling down the side of his face, looked over at the pile of tiles on the road, and then looked at Aramis.
They realized another potential 'accident' had just been narrowly avoided to Aramis, who had been in front and would have been hit first by the falling tiles.
Athos pulled out a handkerchief and began dabbing at the blood still trickling down d'Artagnan's face.
"That was a very close call," he said, as he examined the cuts on d'Artagnan's forehead more closely.
"It sure was," came Aramis' voice, as he joined them. "Let me see your forehead, d'Artagnan." He gently examined the area, and told them, "He was lucky. It just cut the skin slightly. It should heal nicely, and no stitches," as he took the handkerchief from Athos and cleaned the area around the cuts himself.
D'Artagnan took Athos aside afterwards, and said in a soft voice, "Athos, that was no accident. I saw someone on the roof a split second before the tiles started to fall. I think...I think someone has been causing these accidents that have befallen Aramis deliberately," looking at Aramis as he spoke.
"I had already been wondering the same thing myself," Athos said, "and this incident reinforces the idea that someone has been trying to kill our brother."
They had thought they had spoken softly enough that their brother wouldn't hear them, but as Athos finished speaking, Aramis spoke.
"I am so sorry, d'Artagnan, that you were injured by whoever has been after ..."
They didn't let him finish, Athos speaking for both of them. "Aramis, in what way could this possibly have been your fault? Whoever this is has something wrong with his mind. We will find him, and bring him to justice."
Then, stopping, he looked more closely at Aramis as he said, "Have you been thinking they were not accidents? Why did you not tell us?"
Aramis just shrugged his shoulders, as he said, "There has been no evidence of foul play. It has just been a gut feeling since the dog attacked. But since we had nothing to go on, I kept silent for the time being."
"Next time, please be more forthcoming with us?" Athos said sternly. "We all know how you sometimes can sense danger, and you have saved us a number of times because of it. We all need to know when one of us is in potential jeopardy, Aramis," ruffling his brother's curls in a gesture that belied the sternness of his words, and indicated the love he had for Aramis, for all his brothers.
"Aramis," d'Artagnan spoke up, "I saw movement from the top of the roof just before I grabbed you. There was definitely foul play involved. No one would be up there late at night like that unless they were up to no good."
Athos said, "I have been pondering for a few days now whether these incidents were really accidents, especially when one of our men reported that the dog's pen is always kept locked, yet happened to be open to permit that animal to attack you? We need to keep a closer eye out from now on. Whoever this is has even been able to trespass on garrison grounds to create his mayhem, so we take extra care in our movements until he is caught."
Porthos joined them a few moments later. He had gone up on the roof to get a look at the area the tiles had come from.
"It's so dirty up there, I could see footprints pretty clearly in the dust and dirt, especially near the remaining stacks of tiles. Someone was definitely up to no good," he growled. Then, he noticed his brothers' faces, and said, "What?"
They filled him in on what they had been talking about, and he looked over at Aramis as he said, "You're gonna have a constant shadow from now on, mon ami. Anyone comes after you will have to deal with me first, all right?"
D'Artagnan said, "And us, as well. Whoever he is, he will be very sorry he tangled with us," throwing an arm around Aramis' shoulder as he spoke.
Aramis just looked at each of his brothers before saying,"Let's go home." As they walked away from the scene, he couldn't help looking back and up, though, thinking how close disaster had come once again. This time it nearly caused one of his brothers to be seriously injured, sending up a prayer of thanksgiving that d'Artagnan was going to be all right, and another one for his brothers' protection.
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When they got back to the garrison, Aramis said that he was very tired, and retired to his room. The others looked at each other, worry evident in their eyes.
D'Artagnan said, "Is he all right? He never admits he's tired, or injured or sick."
"He's worried about us now," Porthos told him. If I know Aramis, he thinks he caused your injury, and thinks we all will be in danger because of him. He is going to worry himself sick about us now. We need to sit him down and talk to him in the morning."
Athos agreed, saying, "Our Aramis is the one who needs to be careful, but we know Aramis. He is not going to take weel having to lay low for any length of time. We will straighten out his misconceptions after muster in the morning. Good night, gentlemen."
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Aramis closed the door quietly behind him, sick at heart. Some crazed person with a vendetta against him had now injured one of his beloved brothers. It was only by the grace of God that one of those falling tiles hadn't taken out d'Artagnan's than that, if the timing of the tiles falling had been slightly different, it could have been d'Artagnan who had been killed by this unknown man's deed.
I can't risk my brothers' lives, thought Aramis. I won't be the cause of any of their deaths. Sadness at what he knew he had to do filled his heart.
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The next morning, Philippe was up early. This was a rarity, not only for him but for most of the aristocracy, who attended balls and parties til the wee hours of the morning, and then slepts until noon. But Philippe needed to think, so he decided to take a walk around the palace grounds while no one was about. His idea of no one, naturally, didn't include servants and groundskeepers, all of whom were beneath his notice.
He was still highly upset by his present circumstances. He had been brought up, to a large extent by his mother,who had indulged his every whim and fancy. So now, he was chaffing at his father's actions in putting a halt to his wish to have revenge.
There had to be a way around his father's orders, Philippe thought. I just need to find it. So preoccupied was he with his thoughts that he nearly didn't notice a young man's odd behavior off to the right, right inside the treeline.
The man was bent over nearly down to the ground, his focus riveted on what he was doing.
Curious, Philippe quietly moved closer. What he saw got his complete attention.
"Are you doing what I think you're doing?" he asked, startling the rapt young m an, who jumped to his feet.
"I'm not doing anything!" he asserted, clearly very nervous to be questioned by this young dandy in front of him.
Philippe already had an idea of what the man was doing. But he leaned down to make sure.
Smiling, he straightened and said, "You and I are going to have a very satisfying partnership," he told the now somewhat confused young man, who didn't yet realize how quickly the nobleman before him had put two and two together: the secluded location out of direct eyesight of the palace windows, and the very thin rope tied almost at ground level in high grass between two trees.
Philippe now knew exactly who this young man was, because he himself had watched the Musketeer Aramis patrol right inside this same stretch of trees at the edge of the palace grounds each time he had been scheduled for palace duty recently. This young man was the one who had been causing the 'accidents' that Aramis had suffered through, and he had just witnessed the set-up of his next one.
"We will both get what we want in this profitable relationship, and no one will be any the wiser."
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Next morning Aramis was absent from muster, unheard of when he was on active duty. Treville looked at Athos, Porthos and d'Artagnan pointedly, as if they might know where his missing marksman was. Athos gave a barely perceptable shake of his head, not wanting to give rise to questions among the rest of the regiment.
As soon as Treville had given out assignments and dismissed his men, he flagged down his rapidly retreating Inseparables.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
Athos responded, "To be honest, Captain, we do not know. We were going to speak with Aramis about something after muster, but are as surprised as yourself to find him absent this morning."
Treville told him, "I expect to see him...and the three of you as soon as you do find him." Then, turning sharply on his heel, he ascended the steps to his office, slamming the door behind him.
Looking at each other, then over at Aramis' room, they quickly crossed the courtyard and Porthos knocked.
No answer.
Again, Porthos knocked-louder.
Nothing.
Trying the door, Porthos found it unlocked and pushed open the door.
Aramis' room was empty. His bed had not been slept in.
He was gone.
