Aramis smiled as d'Artagnan repeated the phrase slowly, his accent was good.

'What did I just say?'

Aramis chuckled, 'the second most important phrase in any language… "I did not know she was your daughter."'

D'Artagnan laughed, 'I should have guessed. What's the most important phrase?'

'I didn't know she was your wife,' replied Aramis, nodding sagely as he spoke.

D'Artagnan shook his head with a smile.

The day was warm, their doublets and weapons were hanging from the cross beams that supported the wooden stair leading to the upper floor of the garrison.

They were sitting on a bench on the far side of the garrison. Both men were taking a well-earned break after sparring with a couple of the cadets who were nearing the day of their commission. The young men were becoming capable soldiers and made both d'Artagnan and Aramis work during their practice fight.

'But what else should I know?' asked d'Artagnan. 'What about the heat of battle? I doubt I'll be in a dispute with a wronged husband or father then.'

Aramis leaned back, eyes closed, face to the sun, he thought for a few moments before speaking again.

'Círculo alrededor. Ve a un terreno más alto.'

D'Artagnan nodded his approval when Aramis explained what he had said and repeated the words. Aramis corrected his pronunciation before getting him to repeat the phrase.

'Retiro. Reagruparse. Tenemos hombres heridos.'

D'Artagnan nodded and repeated the words.

A door was pulled open a few yards away. D'Artagnan looked across, expecting to greet a fellow Musketeer as they emerged in the light from the sleeping quarters. What he was not expecting was to see Jean-Claude, one of the older men, with years of service behind him, step out, gun in hand and a murderous expression on his face.

The gun was levelled and aimed squarely at Aramis, who still had his eyes closed.

'I always suspect you. I always knew.'

Aramis opened his eyes and looked towards Jean-Claude. He was about to speak but Jean-Cluade shouted over him.

'You led them to us. You got my brothers killed.'

D'Artagnan saw the confusion on Aramis' face. Aramis shook his head, his brow furrowed. He was about to stand and face Jean-Claude but the annoyed man stepped closer, his aim unwavering. D'Artagnan could see what was about to happen. He knew Aramis would be unable to avoid the shot. A shot that would be fatal. He did the only thing he could, he scrambled up pushing bodily into Aramis.

The gun was fired.

MMMM

Aramis spent several seconds trying to work out what was happening. A sharp pain seared across his right bicep at the same time as he was roughly bundled to the ground, knocking his left knee into the ground with enough force to leave him struggling with the new pain.

A heavy weight across his back made it difficult to get up. He realised d'Artagnan had landed across him.

D'Artagnan was not moving.

But Jean-Claude was.

The irate Musketeer was pacing forward and backwards. As Aramis twisted out from under his still friend he realised Jean-Claude was reloading his gun.

Aramis pushed himself to his knees and looked down at his friend. D'Artagnan had been shot. The ball had grazed across his temple leaving a wound which was bleeding freely. Aramis did not think, he pulled his friend over, cradling him in his arms. He managed to grab a cloth he had been using to wipe his sword, wading it up and pressing it firmly against the wound.

'Is he a spy as well? Are you working together?'

Aramis looked up at Jean-Claude, squinting as he tried to make out the soldier towering over him, the bright sun leaving him silhouetted. Aramis could not make out the man's expression. What he could see was that he had finished reloading his gun.

MMMM

Treville looked up from his paperwork. He had been chuckling as he listened into Aramis and d'Artagnan's conversation. The arrival of Jean-Claude left Treville confused for a few seconds before he realised what was happening.

The older man was close to retirement. He had seen many battles over the years. His distinguished career had seen him excel in several regiments. He was well respected amongst the other Musketeers.

But he was a man who had seen atrocities. He had seen the evils of war. He knew death intimately. Seen friends slaughtered. Seen friends dying needlessly.

And he had seen those things most recently at the hands of the Spanish.

The last battle Jean-Claude fought had left him with a nasty head injury. The man was lucky to have survived at all. Jean Claude was only just back on full duties. His recovery had been long.

Treville realised as he pushed away from his table and hurried to the stairs that Jean-Claude had not recovered at all. The gunshot only proving that fact.

The sight that greeted Treville at the bottom of the stairs was shocking.

Aramis and d'Artagnan were both injured, although Treville suspected Aramis did not realise he had also been hit by the gunshot. His attention was fully on d'Artagnan and Jean-Claude.

Jean-Claude was standing over the injured men reloading his gun. Aramis was trying to stem the flow of blood from the head wound d'Artagnan had suffered. D'Artagnan was unconscious, his pallor already pale. Aramis' shirt sleeve was stained with blood, but the injured man paid the wound no attention.

Jean-Claude levelled the gun. Treville knew from that distance Jean-Claude could not miss. The shot would be fatal. Aramis stared up at Jean-Claude.

'Jean, what have I done?' asked Aramis, his tone one of bewilderment and shock.

Aramis had not had time to work out why Jean-Claude had taken against him so violently.

'Jean-Claude,' said Treville, who knew he had to intervene. 'What are you doing? Leave them alone.'

Jean-Claude did not react, he continued to glare at Aramis, nothing but hate in his eyes. His finger began to tighten on the trigger. Treville pulled his gun, slowly raising it to aim at the soldiers.

'Jean-Claude put the gun down.'

Treville was aware of other Musketeers approaching. A couple of them pulled their weapons and readied them.

Jean-Claude did not react. It was as though he did not know they were there. His sole focus was Aramis. Aramis' crime - that he spoke Spanish like a Spaniard.

Treville knew Jean-Claude was confused. His mind was cruelly playing tricks on him. To Jean-Claude, Aramis had become the enemy.

Treville suspected there was nothing he could do.

It was not the first time Treville had seen a man driven to do something so desperate. And he doubted it would be the last. Some men could not deal with the aftermath of battle. They bottled it up. They did not let the grief, the tension, the terror go. And eventually, it had to spill out.

That was what was happening now. Jean-Claude saw Aramis as the enemy and the enemy had to be killed.

But Aramis was an innocent man.

As was Jean-Claude.

But Jean-Claude could not be reasoned with.

Treville knew there could only be one outcome.

A second shot rang out. This time fired by the Musketeer Captain.

The End.

Whumpees: Aramis and d'Artagnan. Featuring: Treville.