Chapter Five - Poisoned

D'Artagnan (with Athos, Porthos and Aramis).

The noises stopped as soon as they had started. The four Musketeers who had curiously moved to the edge of the clearing to try to work out what had caused the noise returned to their campfire and the food that was cooking over it. Aramis wandered over to the horses as they had become a little skittish, no doubt startled by the strange noises that had disturbed them all. Athos started a slow walk around the edge of the clearing.

'Must have been animals,' said d'Artagnan as he helped himself to a bowl of the hot stew.

Porthos was still staring at the spot where they had heard the noises.

'Didn't sound like any animals I've ever heard,' he said before joining d'Artagnan.

He settled down next to d'Artagnan, who was already eating his stew.

'Not waiting for us then?' he asked with a grin.

D'Artagnan looked at him for a second before swallowing, 'you all had lunch, I've not eaten since breakfast.'

Porthos chuckled as he watched the younger man hungrily wolf down his dinner. He glanced across to Aramis and Athos as they wandered back to the fire.

'I cannot see anything untoward,' said Athos as he sat down.

Porthos spooned some of the stew into a bowl and sat back, he sniffed at the food, enjoying the aroma for a moment, he dipped his spoon into the bowl.

When the bowl was knocked from his hand with no warning, spilling the contents onto the ground Porthos looked at d'Artagnan unable to hide his anger. The anger quickly changed to concern when he saw the look on d'Artagnan's face.

'It's…' d'Artagnan was blinking and holding his stomach, 'wrong...bad…'

'D'Artagnan,' said Porthos reaching a hand up to steady the now shaking man.

'Poison…'

'What?' Aramis was on the other side of the younger man looking at him with concern. 'How can you tell?'

But d'Artagnan was taking short, panted breaths, his eyes shut.

'It must have been when we had our backs turned,' said Athos who had scrambled back up to stand, his gun drawn.

The Musketeer immediately started scanning their surroundings carefully, searching for whoever had caused harm to his brother.

'We need to get him to throw up, he needs an emetic,' said Aramis as he hurried over to his saddlebag and started to rummage through it.

D'Artagnan was leaning forward, Porthos grabbed him around the shoulders and steadied him. He did not know what else to do. He felt helpless. There was no wound to clean and dress, an injury he could deal with; this was totally beyond him.

Aramis returned with a small bag of ground-up powder which he tipped into a cup before adding water to it and swilling the liquid around.

'D'Artagnan,' said Aramis, lifting the younger man's face up to look at him in an attempt to get his attention.

The breathless man stared at him, fear in his eyes.

'You need to drink this, drink it all. Porthos, hold onto him, this will taste horrible he won't want to drink.'

Porthos did as he was told grabbing his brother tightly, pinning his arms to his sides, holding him firmly. Aramis held the cup to d'Artagnan's lips and tipped it. D'Artagnan tried to turn away.

'You have to drink it,' said Aramis firmly before grabbing d'Artagnan and forcing him to drink from the cup.

The Musketeer spluttered a few times but did swallow what Porthos guessed was a foul tasting concoction. Porthos struggled to hold d'Artagnan still, he talked to him, trying to calm him. D'Artagnan had become confused as Aramis continued to administer the emetic. Once he had forced the last of the liquid into their struggling brother Aramis discarded the cup and guided d'Artagnan to lean forward. Porthos shifted his position, keeping hold of him.

The effect of the medication was quick. D'Artagnan retched and began to throw up the contents of his stomach within a few seconds. Porthos continued to hold his brother as the cure took its toll.

'I'm sorry,' said Aramis quietly as he watched unable to do anything further to ease the man's discomfort.

The retching lasted for a few minutes, it was evident that d'Artagnan had nothing left to throw up which seemed to make it more uncomfortable for him. When he finally stopped he was panting hard. Porthos pulled the suffering man away from the consequence of his actions which Aramis washed away with water.

D'Artagnan had become weakened by the events and allowed Porthos to lay him down on his bedroll. Aramis helped Porthos to manoeuvre their brother to lie on his side.

'He should be more comfortable like that,' said Aramis, 'and there's less chance of him choking if he's sick again. But one of us should keep an eye on him.'

Porthos nodded before pulling a blanket from d'Artagnan's bag and spreading it over the exhausted man.

Athos, who had taken several slow turns around their camp as Aramis and Porthos had helped d'Artagnan wandered back.

'I cannot see anyone. I can only guess they did not want to stay and see the consequences of their actions. It is odd. When can he be moved?'

Aramis looked up at Athos, 'I doubt it will be long before he's recovered enough to at least ride with one of us. We can only hope making him sick is enough to rid his body of whatever the poison was.'

'Who would do such a thing? If we'd all eaten at the same time we could all have died,' said Porthos.

'Someone has obviously taken a disliking to us being here,' replied Athos. 'We will break camp as soon as we can.'

Porthos looked back down at d'Artagnan who was more or less breathing normally again.

'Sorry,' he said looking back up his brothers.

'You've got nothing to be sorry about, you saved us. You stopped me from getting ill as well,' said Porthos laying his hand on the younger man's shoulder.

'Rest for a while,' said Aramis.

It was not long before d'Artagnan closed his eyes and fell into a fitful sleep.

The End.