Chapter Eleven - Hypothermia

Athos (with d'Artagnan, Porthos and Aramis)

'I got you,' panted Porthos as he dragged the exhausted man from the river.

Athos clearly could not respond, Porthos could tell he was still conscious but did not think he would remain so for long.

D'Artagnan skidded to a halt next to him, grabbed Athos' other arm and assisted pulling the Musketeer further up the bank away from the fast-flowing torrent.

'Lucky Aramis knew the river got shallower here,' said d'Artagnan. 'It would have been hard work trying to get him out of the deeper sections.'

'Yeah, but it did mean we had to let him go past a couple of places I could have grabbed him.'

'And get pulled in yourself,' said Aramis as he caught up with them.

'What kept you?' asked Porthos.

'Fell over...it happens...I'm not perfect, you can tease me later,' replied Aramis without looking up from Athos.

The bedraggled Musketeer lying between them had passed out. But he was shivering. Aramis started to undo Athos doublet. D'Artagnan helped the medic to push their brother up to sit as they divested him of the jacket. Porthos pulled off Athos' boots and leather breeches.

'We need to get him warm,' said Aramis, 'take off your doublet.'

Porthos and d'Artagnan did as they were told without question. Aramis was their field medic and knew what he was doing, although getting Athos warmed up was common sense. They lay the doublet's over the unconscious man.

'You two are going to have to get friendly with him,' said Aramis.

'What?' said both Porthos and d'Artagnan at the same time.

'Warm him up, with your own body heat...embrace him, keep him close to you.'

Porthos glanced at d'Artagnan before looking back at Athos.

'He won't like that.'

'He's unconscious,' pointed out Aramis.

'Why are we doing it?' asked d'Artagnan as he shuffled closer to Athos.

Porthos looked at Aramis but did not repeat the question.

'Do either of you know the area?'

Both men shook their heads.

'Well, I do. I know there is a village about two miles in that direction. The tavern keeper there owes me a favour. I'm going to get help.'

Aramis stood up and started to undo his own doublet before shrugging out of it and handing it to d'Artagnan.

'Seriously, body warmth. It's the best we can do at the moment,' said Aramis when Porthos still did not get closer to Athos.

Porthos had no problem with helping his brother, Porthos was worried about what would happen if Athos woke up and found both himself and d'Artagnan at such close quarters. Athos was not a particularly tactile man at the best of times. But Aramis had a point. Of the three of them, only he knew the area.

'I'll be as quick as I can,' said Aramis, 'I'll try to be back before he wakes up and kills you both.'

Aramis took off in the direction he had said the village was in without waiting for his brothers to reply.

'I hate him sometimes,' said d'Artagnan.

'Somehow, we get stuck with the...awkward jobs all the time,' remarked Porthos as he finally moved to sit closer to Athos, slipping his arm around the man's shoulders.

'Hopefully,' continued Porthos, looking at their unconscious brother, 'he'll never need to know.'

The End.

Authors note: Prequel later on…