Chapter Four

Treville watched his musketeers and cadets training. It filled him with pride to see such a well-oiled team of men. Their movements were graceful and intuitive. Most of them were. He began to think he should have heeded Porthos' words from the previous week. Aramis looked awful, he was clearly not well. He looked tired, his movements were laboured and he was losing his fight with the young cadet he was sparring with.

He decided that it was time to talk to Aramis, he would take him to one side and order him to talk to him if he had to. When Aramis fell to the ground he realised he should have acted sooner.

As Treville made his way across the garrison yard he shooed the curious cadets away, 'carry on, this does not concern you,' he said firmly. The last thing Aramis needed was an audience.

Athos was already by his fallen comrade and Porthos reached them at the same time as Treville. Treville caught Porthos' eye and silently apologised for ignoring his warning.

'Why am I on the ground?' asked Aramis, blinking and trying to push himself up.

'You collapsed,' replied Athos as he helped his friend to sit up.

Treville crouched on the other side of Aramis, who looked pale, 'Aramis…when was the last time you slept…properly…do not lie to me.'

Aramis looked at Treville then looked away, 'I haven't slept, properly, since you found us…I thought it would get better…'

Treville reached out and gently squeezed Aramis' shoulder, 'you are going to the infirmary and you are going to stay there until I say so,' he gave Aramis a pointed look when the marksman started to protect, 'consider it your punishment for not telling us you were unfit for duty…I'll get Lemay to visit you, perhaps he can give you something to help him sleep.'

He hooked his arm under Aramis' as Athos did the same on his other side. They pulled him up, not letting him go until they were certain he was not going to simple crumple to the floor. At least he has the sense to look contrite, thought Treville. He nodded towards Porthos who stepped forward and took Aramis by the arm to guide him towards the infirmary.

Treville turned to the shocked cadet that Aramis had been sparring with, 'not your fault son, your sparring partner needs to learn to take better care of himself. Go and find Lemay and ask him to visit at his earliest convenience.'

The cadet nodded and trotted out of the garrison in search of the doctor.

'I should have listened to Porthos,' sighed Treville as he turned back to return to his office.

'Yes, we should have noticed sooner, but he is very good at hiding his injuries from us,' replied Athos.

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Another message delivered to the zealots and brought to Ruiz's attention had many of them gathered together. Ruiz was keen to redeem himself in the eyes of their leader, an imposing man called, Pottier.

'I propose that we intercept this relic. Saint Judoc should be revered by those who understand, not the paupers who are looking for pointless miracles,' said Pottier.

The group murmured their agreement. Ruiz stepped forward.

'I shall coordinate the collection of this precious relic my Lord.'

Pottier smiled at Ruiz, he paused before speaking again contemplating the man. Ruiz wondered if he had spoken out of turn. He was desperate to get himself back into the favoured position he had been in prior to the debacle with the musketeers.

When Pottier finally spoke, Ruiz was relieved by his words, 'yes, my son, you can manage the recovery, although you will not be risking yourself, you will be sending some of our faithful followers.'

Ruiz was relieved, not only was he being given the chance to make up for his mistake, he also was not being put into danger in doing so.

Ruiz nodded his thanks, and left his leader to start planning and despatching men to recover the relic.

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Porthos had threatened to tie Aramis to the bed in the infirmary if he did not lie down. Aramis had baulked at the suggestion. Porthos thought he might have found it humorous but he had merely looked away as he settled on one of the beds. He had laid back and shut his eyes, although Porthos knew Aramis was not trying to sleep, he did fall asleep within a few minutes. His pained expression easing as he fell into a deeper slumber.

He wished he had been firmer with Treville the previous week. Now Aramis had collapsed in front of the entire garrison. He knew his friend was embarrassed by what had happened, but it served him right. Despite his friend's idiocy, Porthos would remain by his side until he recovered.

It was only a few minutes before the first dream started, Aramis began mumbling and moving about, as if trying to escape from some hidden foe.

Porthos stepped forward, settling on the edge of the bed ready to intervene if his friend became too distressed. The dream only lasted a couple of minutes but by the time Aramis settled he was drenched in sweat. Porthos realised this must have been happening for two weeks. It was no wonder that his friend had finally succumbed to the lack of sleep.

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It had been nearly four weeks since he and Porthos had been kidnapped. Porthos' arm was healing well. Lemay had said that in another week he would be able to return to duty, although he would have to be careful not to put too much strain on the injury.

Lemay had also said that Aramis could return to full duties, again, but this time with Treville's blessing. He had reluctantly accepted help from Lemay, who had given him several sleeping draughts. When he had been hesitant to take a drug to help him sleep Lemay had seen his problem. He had assured the musketeer that his drug would not have an adverse effect, unlike the one he had been forced to take when he had been held captive.

After several nights where he had slept without waking until morning he had felt refreshed and ready to return to work. The conciliatory meeting with Treville had been awkward, but necessary. He had also made a point to apologies to his friends and the poor cadet he had been sparring with when he had collapsed.

Now he was trying to wean himself off the sleeping drug, only taking the draught every other night. So far it seemed to be working. He was still getting the occasional flashes of images from their incarceration, still disjointed and mainly highlighting his restraint and frustration, he hoped they would fade with time.

He knew Porthos was still keeping a close eye on him and he was grateful for his friend's support. Porthos was careful not to make it too obvious, but Aramis knew.

For now, he was happy to get back to some form of normality. Although he knew they would soon begin the next phase of the plan to catch the men behind the incident that had started the whole chain of events.

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The King was listening intently as Treville outlined the rest of their plan to catch the gang of relic thieves. They had, over the course of the last month gathered intelligence from several sources. Stories of ransacked cathedrals and churches. Private homes robbed and individuals attacked. All had one thing in common. All had a religious relic, and all of them had been stolen. It had become clear that these people were intent on collecting as much as they could.

'They are zealots, your majesty, they are akin to insane people. They feel the needs to gather all the relics for their own nefarious reasons. I wish I could understand why. Why deprive the greater populous the security of these precious items? The people need the hope that such items bring.'

Treville did not quite agree with the Cardinal, he was not an ardent religious man, but he did appreciate the rare suspension of hostilities between them. The Cardinal had even enquired after the health of Porthos and Aramis after he had heard the full details of their kidnapping.

'Yes, yes Cardinal, I agree they need to be stopped and between the two of you it will be done. I have every faith in you. When will you start?' asked the King.

'The fake relic is prepared, and my men are ready. They will leave at first light tomorrow,' said the Cardinal, who turned to Treville, 'I trust your men are ready also, and they know and understand their orders?'

'Yes, they will be ready,' Treville replied, he knew he could trust Athos and d'Artagnan not to interfere. He knew that it would be difficult for them, but they would just observe and then follow the attackers leaving the red guard to their fate.

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'I hate this,' said d'Artagnan for what felt like the hundredth time.

Athos sighed, 'I know…I am not pleased with the plan either, but we have our orders. We are to observe and then follow the attackers.'

'Normally I would just think, they are only Red Guard, but this is so callous of the Cardinal,' mused Porthos.

They were in the stables, Athos and d'Artagnan were saddling their horses and checking their supplies before leaving. It was barely light, but they had to be in position to follow the Red Guard before the ill-fated men left their garrison. Both men were in civilian clothes, although their musketeer uniforms were hidden away in their saddle bags. They had no intention of remaining in disguise any longer than they had to.

'I wish I could accompany you,' said Aramis as he stroked the soft nose of d'Artagnan's horse.

'You could be recognised, we do not know who will be in the ambush. Ruiz could be there,' said Athos looking over at his friend.

Athos was pleased that Aramis was much more his normal self. Although he was still quieter than normal, he was clearly sleeping better and did not seem as withdrawn as he had been before his collapse.

'And I need you here, so that you can stop me from trying to use my busted arm,' retorted Porthos with a grin.

Aramis smiled at him, before turning back to Athos who was mounting his horse, he said, 'be careful…don't get caught.'

Athos did not miss the slight tremor in his voice, Aramis was still haunted by the attack on him and Porthos.

'We will be careful,' said d'Artagnan who had picked up on the inference as well.

As the horses walked from the stable they both turned and nodded their goodbyes to Treville who had stepped out of his room to see them off. Porthos and Aramis watched them go.

'They'll be fine,' said Porthos.

'I hope so,' replied Aramis.

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They followed at a discreet distance behind the Red Guard. They knew the route that would be taken so could hang back on the straighter roads only closing in when they either turned a corner or negotiated a sweeping bend.

'Did you suffer any after effects from being stuck in that cupboard?' asked Athos.

D'Artagnan was a little confused by the sudden question from Athos. Initially he did not know what his superior meant. He realised Athos was referring to the time spent trapped, in the cupboard next to the room that Aramis and Porthos had been held in.

'You mean, like Aramis did, with bad dreams and not being able to sleep?'

'Yes.'

'No, I didn't,' he paused thinking about their different imprisonments, 'but I could've escaped…it would have been dangerous and probably foolhardy, but I could've done.'

'So, you did not feel as trapped as Aramis?'

'I suppose…and from what Porthos has said, Aramis was kept chained up whilst he was allowed to move around unrestrained…Porthos said that Aramis became quite frustrated and upset by that.'

They trotted on for a while in silence.

'Do you think he will ever remember what happened?' asked d'Artagnan, 'He's said he gets the odd flash of a memory, but not the whole thing. Perhaps if he were to remember it would help him recover?'

'The human mind is a mysterious thing, d'Artagnan. If he is meant to remember it, he will.'

'This is similar.'

It was Athos' turn to be confused. He looked at d'Artagnan, puzzled.

'This…what we are about to do…this will be like my time stuck in that cupboard. I couldn't hear everything that was going on in the room where they were being kept, but I heard enough to know it was not good.'

He shuddered at the memory of Aramis shouting and Porthos' cry of pain when his arm was broken.

'We are most likely going to watch those men,' he nodded towards the Red Guard in front of them, 'get attacked and we won't be able to do anything about it.'

'I see, what you mean,' said Athos.

They continued following the soldiers in silence, each lost in his own thoughts.

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They had spent an uncomfortable night as close to the road as they could. They had to keep the Red Guard in sight, but not let them know they were being watched. They had to take turns to keep watch on both the guards and their surroundings.

They could not relax, as they had to be ready at a moment's notice. If the attack happened at night, they had to be vigilant, they would need to be ready to follow the attackers.

But the attack had not happened overnight and now they were remounted and into their second day following the four unsuspecting men in front of them.

'What if they don't get attacked? This could all be for nothing,' observed d'Artagnan as he swatted away a wasp which had been bothering him.

'It could be for nothing. We would have to go back to poor Monsieur Bardet if that was the case. I am sure he knew more than he was letting on. His stay in the Chatelet will probably have loosened his tongue by now.'

D'Artagnan chuckled as he remembered the frightened courtiers' stuttering replies to Athos' questions.

He looked over at Athos and was just about to ask what he thought Bardet might know when he noted Athos stiffen and stare intently to the left of the men ahead. D'Artagnan knew what that meant; the attack was about to happen.

They manoeuvred the horses to the side of the road and managed to use a small stand of trees to hide unobserved.

The attack was well planned, d'Artagnan knew, with a heavy heart, that the Red Guard did not stand a chance against the robbers.

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The Red Guard were unprepared and outnumbered. Athos could tell they were going to be defeated quickly and easily by the attackers. The four soldiers had not been particularly vigilant as they were trotting along the road. Athos and d'Artagnan had been following them for nearly two days and they had been none the wiser.

It was a well-known fact that the Kings Musketeers were better soldiers than the Cardinals Red Guard, but they were still trained soldiers and should have been able to hold their own against the ten attackers. Ten men would have been dealt with efficiently by four musketeers. Ten men should have been dealt with relatively efficiently by four Red Guards. Athos was beginning to wonder as he watched the men being overpowered if the Cardinal had chosen these four men because they were not the best in his regiment. Perhaps it was his way of eliminating the men he thought were not up to the standards that he wanted?

The surprise attack had meant that one of the guards was shot and killed instantly. Two of the others had managed to take out three of the attackers and the fourth guard had slain three attackers whilst still mounted. Athos had been impressed with his work. Although the horse rearing and kicking one of the men diminished the achievement a little.

The four remaining attackers were clearly the most efficient of the original ten. The mounted guard was eventually dragged from his horse by two of the zealots and after a short but brutal sword fight he was run through and left writhing on the ground, his guts barely held within his body as the poor man grabbed at the gaping wound.

The other two guards were now faced with two attackers each. They were soon dealt with. Their bodies falling, instantly forgotten by the attackers as they began searching for the reliquary.

'Here,' said one of them as he pulled the small box from a saddlebag. He held it reverently to show the other three who all crossed themselves and appeared to say a prayer. No attempt was made to open the box, it was carefully carried a short distance to the tree line of the copse of trees the men had been hiding in before their ambush.

Two of the men gathered the red guard's horses and led them toward the trees. The other two had busied themselves collecting their own horses and those of their fallen comrades. The group mounted up and began to move along the road.

D'Artagnan exhaled. Athos felt the same. The attack was brutal, several times he had wanted to rush out and help the soldiers. He glanced at d'Artagnan who was looking pale.

'Come on, there is nothing we can do for them now…we mustn't lose sight of the zealots.'

He kicked his horse forward and as d'Artagnan urged his horse to fall into step they began to follow the zealots. This, thought Athos, would be far more dangerous, they did not know where the zealots were going or how long it would take to get there.

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