Author's Note: I'm BACK! I'd like to humbly apologize for the almost 6 month wait. I won't bore you with the details, or try to make excuses, I can only hope that you all can forgive me for the excessive delay. So instead of posting a whole new chapter I've just decided to add to this one, and it will be a nice recap for those who have been waiting for so long (again so so sorry) I have made some slight changes to the original post and extended it a bit, nothing to drastic or plot changing, but I would suggest rereading the first part. If you'd like to skip however, just jump to the second set of these ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

Disclaimer: While I would love to claim ownership of these beautifully crafted characters, I can only claim the journey that I have set them on, the characters themselves belong to a MUCH more brilliant mind than myself.

And without any possible further delay …

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While following the trail that was leading them to their missing friend, Athos couldn't help but admire the fact that Aramis was giving his captors a hard time. As much as Athos disliked it when he himself was on the receiving end, he loved it when others were being forced to live through the pain that is a sarcastic Aramis. Especially if they were not the friendly sort. The trail of blood was worrisome however, and it became even more so when D'Artagnan had raised his hand telling them to stop. "Someone left on foot here." he pointed at the ground indicating the footprints in contrast to the hoof prints all around them. "It looks like it was voluntary. There's nothing here to indicate a struggle."

"Aramis probably thought that his pursuers wanted him more than the the rest of the letter, he did everything possible to allow at least some of the information to reach us." Porthos said to Athos who nodded in agreement.

"But what could he know that the Spanish would risk having one of there spies exposed? Aramis must have discovered more than one secret while he was behind enemy lines, it's the only thing that makes any sense. "

D'Artagnan caught their attention as he dismounted, "It looks like he headed into the forest here," indicating the left side of the road, where a gap in the natural forest growth had been made. "we should go on foot from here. The underbrush is to thick for the horses to get through at any real speed. Besides it will be easier to track from down here."

Heeding his advice the three of them dismounted and headed into the forest on foot. They walked for several minutes in silence. The only sound was that of the horses breathing, and the snapping of twigs and fallen tree branches.

"It looks like his leg was wounded, you can see where one of his footprints drags a bit." D'Artagnan continued on, occasionally commenting on the odd significance of each broken branch of any given bush or tree. Athos assumed it was the younger man's worry that was making him so talkative. D'Artagnan had always been a talkative person, but when he's worried he just talks until he realizes that he forgets to breathe. He had grown a lot over the past four years. War will change any man, and Athos had watched him transform from the last of his boyish ways into the strong and confident man before him. His tracking skills had surpassed them all due to a certain mission which left D'Artagnan alone in the wilderness for 2 weeks, forcing him to become better in order to survive. What he had been forced to live through was what Aramis had once described as what Hell would be like. No one had come through the bloody mess unchanged. But D'Artagnan had the most, and he was a stronger man for it. Though Athos did miss his young energy from time to time. He was drawn from his thoughts as the man himself found something.

"He stumbled here." D'Artagnan pointed to a branch on the ground where a small pool of blood had formed on the fallen leaves. There were indents in the dirt, with what looked like drag marks from kicking or unstable feet. "It's also where his pursuers caught up with him." D'Artagnan crouched down to get a better look at the ground, "There are two other sets of footprints all around here, and these," he said pointing to the larger of the two, "are deeper. So either he was extraordinarily large or..."

"Or" Porthos interrupted, "Aramis was unconscious and had to be carried."

The worry behind those words made Porthos visibly shudder. The larger man had been clutching onto Aramis's pauldron so tightly, his knuckles had turned white. Porthos' mind was racing, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for what could have happened here. Aramis could have just passed out and been carried off by the men who hunted him. Or maybe some travelers found him and he was perfectly alright. Or he could be dead and buried in some shallow grave where the wild animals would dig up and devour the rotting corpse of his best friend.

All the things that I should have said to him while I had the chance. Now he's gone and I'll never be able to take back those stupid hurtful words I said after reuniting after 4 years! I should have been less pigheaded and actually tried with him, said one kind thing, HUGGED him when I had the opportunity. All hope for renewing out long deprived friendship is now gone, and nothing I can do will ever change that.

The concern must have shown on his face because a hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder, and another on the back of his neck, forcing him to look at Athos in the eyes.

"He's not DEAD Porthos, he's far too stubborn for that." Athos said with strength he didn't feel.

"You can't possibly know that?"

"They wouldn't bother with a dead man's body. " All eyes turned to the youngest member of their search party as Raul continued, "If he's not here that means he's alive...and... it also means that they need something from him." At the last bit, he looked at the others almost apologetically.

"And they won't be able to find anything out from a dead man."

Athos nodded, surprised, both because he had almost forgotten that the young man was with them and at the fact that all of what he said was most likely true. He turned to D'Artagnan who was still crouched on the ground, "Can you tell which way they went from here?"

It appeared as though D'Artagnan hadn't heard Athos's question as he didn't respond and was studying something on the ground closely."D'Artagnan!?" Having been drawn from deep thought D'Artagnan was startled and looked up sharply, "Sorry, what?"

"Can you tell which direction Aramis was taken?"

"Right yes, but you need to look at this."

The three men stepped closer to the former Gascon, trying to see what he was pointing at.

"I don't see anything." Raul said staring at the dirt.

"Right here, carved into the ground...it looks like a name.

Porthos face turned from one of concern and helplessness to one of amusement and understanding. Only Aramis could turn falling to the ground into something more than just that.

"Is the name all that's there?!" Athos asked, hoping that there was something to indicate otherwise.
"Yes that's the only thing written here, you don't think that he's the traitor do you, The King will be crushed!"

"I'm not sure … " Athos stated turning to face Porthos, "but I intend to find out. This information needs to get to Treville." Athos pondered for a moment and seemed to come to some kind of decision, "You three continue on the search for Aramis. I'll return as soon as I can."

Porthos nodded as Athos grabbed his horse reigns and started running back to the road as quickly as he could. He looked back briefly, at the three men "Find him, and bring him home."

"We will." Feeling the determination in Porthos voice, Athos turned his horse back toward the road and headed back to Paris. Armed with the knowledge of the possible traitors name he was determined that, should things with Aramis go poorly his sacrifice would not be in vain.

Porthos watched till Athos was out of sight and turned back to D'Artagnan, "Alright, which way did they take our brother?" D'Artagnan stood and looked back at his comrade with a profound sense of determination and confidence, "Follow me. "

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Aramis's captors pulled him off of his horse violently, and half carried him down the long pathway, while their horses were led away by the men guarding the gates. With his wounded leg, he was somewhat grateful that the entirety of the weight, was not solely left to him alone. Still helpless to escape, especially now bound and wounded as he was, Aramis took the time to stealthily gather all the information he could about his surroundings. The iron gate to the well maintained entrance to the grounds, were being closed behind him by one of the four men guarding it. The path leading to, what appeared to be, an abandoned mansion some noble family must have left it behind for one reason or another. It was surrounded by tall trees and overgrown grass and plant life. Vines were growing up the side of the stone building, forcing the mortar apart, creating gaps in the walls, the windows, at least the ones still intact, were caked in dust and grime. As they grew nearer to the forgotten home, he could hear the muffled sound of conversations. It sounded like a group no bigger than forty but not smaller than twenty. There was the smell of campfire in the air slowly growing stronger. The abandoned courtyard of the once elegant home led to an archway, much like that at the Garrison, but longer and not built so that a man on horseback could ride through without hitting his head.

He briefly stumbled on one of the uneven stones, reminding him of the hands that held his arms firmly. Aramis muffled a grunt of pain through his gag as he fell briefly to his knees. He was soon grabbed under his arms and lifted back to his aching feet without a word between the usually bantering men. They had become far more quiet than on the road, and he didn't know why but it had Aramis slightly concerned. As they continued on their journey down the long arched walkway, it soon opened up to reveal some twenty or so tents, pitched in the cover of the rundown mansion. The location was well chosen. No one passing by would hear the commotion of the men, or see the number of tents, or even smell the scent of the overwhelming lack of hygiene. Aramis was pulled, feet now slightly dragging as he lacked the strength to continue supporting himself, toward the center of the tents. Passing by soldiers who were casually playing cards, relaxed as they could be in enemy territory. Some shot him unperturbed glances, others glared and spat in his direction, some laughed and cursed at him in their native tongue, and some didn't even bother to look up from the much desired hot meal in their hands. Aramis was surprised to see such a large force this close to Paris. It wasn't a large enough group to attack the capitol and hope to succeed, but if Aramis knew anything for sure, it was a small skilled group of men could cause a lot of damage to the war effort.

Without warning Aramis' leg gave way completely from underneath him. Tomas and Antone, not expecting this sudden weight, accidentally dropped him. With his hands bound behind him, Aramis had no way to brace himself for the hard connection with the ground. A gasp of pain escaped his muffled lips as his head exploded in agony. Just one more hit in the head to add to an increasingly long list.
"Tomas what did you drop him for?" Antone grinned.
"I didn't drop him and you know it," Tomas argued.

"We've basically been dragging him since the gate, it's not MY fault he collapsed. "
Aramis stopped listening to the two and tried to regain focus in his eyes, as he was now seeing double when his head broke his fall. The world around him was blurry and out of focus. He wanted to shake his head to clear his vision, but Aramis knew from past experience from head wounds, this would most likely make the nausea he was feeling that much worse.

"What seem to be the problem gentlemen?" A new voice caught Aramis' attention as he tried to look up from his position on the rocky path to see who had spoken.

Tomas and Antone had ceased their argument the moment that the first word had left the newcomers lips.
"Problem? What problem? There's no problem here, is there Antone?"

"No, no problems here. " Antone replied amusedly as Aramis slowly struggled up to his knees, groaning with effort to right himself as he went.

He looked down at Aramis then back up at the other two, a look of disbelief etched in his features.
"No problem?" he sighed and rubbed his gloved hand over his face, "If I recall correctly, the two of you were meant to take the musketeer unmolested, or with minor damage at the least! This man," he pointed at the swaying captive, still on his knees with eyes closed in pain, "looks as if he's about to die!"

"We did, well we tried. What I mean is that we were going to...Tomas you tell him" he pushed his reluctant friend in front of him, wishing he was out of the line of fire, or at the very least the look of complete and utter disappointment that the other man was giving him just moments previously. Tomas, now the barrier between Antone and this new man, who stood at least a foot shorter than Tomas, tried to salvage what Antone and broken with his garbled answer.
"You see Gabriel, we did have him and his letter, but when we went to bring him back morning," he paused and looked back at Aramis, who was slowly able to readjust his eyes to work properly again, "he sort of got away briefly, and his message was torn, his horse was able to get away with one part of the message. But we caught up to him, and brought him back here as soon as we could. The leg wound was a way to keep him from running. " He doesn't need to know that he was shot BEFORE he escaped.

Gabriel looked back and forth between the two men standing in front of him in utter disbelief, subtly shaking his head as he briefly closed his eyes. When he reopened them he glanced down at the man in question who had regained most of his balance back along with his vision. They locked eyes briefly, both trying to show the other their level of resolve and determination in their equally difficult tasks ahead.
"Pick him up. Bring him to the Captain's office for your orders. " he turned to walk away then paused and turned back to the men who had only just started to obey their order. "Try to make sure he's conscious when we get there, he looks as if he's going to collapse at any moment," he paused again and spared one last glance at the bound prisoner, "and find him something to drink after, we don't need him dying from dehydration before we can get any information out of him. "

The two nodded at Gabriel's retreating back as they quickly picked Aramis up from the ground and made to follow him through the camp to one of the several buildings on the grounds. The one they actually entered was in a similar state as the house but the roof had signs of repair as did the windows, which were boarded up to block the broken glass. It took a few moments for his vision to adjust to the sudden darkness, his eyes seemed to be doing a lot of readjusting in the last ten minutes, but when they did he saw a man with an aura of authority about him. For some reason he seemed familiar to Aramis, but in the state he was in he couldn't be sure of anything at the moment. His head felt like there were two cannonballs resting on it, as well as a slight ringing in his ears which was causing his headache to increase slowly which was more of an annoyance than anything else.

"So you are musketeer that has been causing all need for secrecy," the captain spoke in a heavy Spanish accent in broken French. He'd obviously learned the language recently but Aramis knew that if he could speak it well enough to be understood by a Frenchman, then his ability to understand the language spoken was much better. Aramis would have to watch what he said around this man.
Having heard everything that the other men had been saying, and when not falling unconscious or dazed from some blow to the head, Aramis had understood what was going to happen to him. He had to however make it look as if he had no idea what any of them were talking about. Understanding what his enemy was saying, and them feeling secure enough that he had no idea what they were saying, had saved Aramis and several others lives in the past. Knowing what was going to happen to him didn't matter to him as long as the spy's name had reached the right people. But if there was any chance that Aramis could turn getting captured into some sort of information obtaining mission, then he would do his best to make sure he did everything in his power to get out of this alive. If not for him, if not for Athos, or D'Artagnan, or Porthos, who Aramis knew despite current disagreements, still cared for him, than for France and all those who would suffer if Spain were to win this bloody war.

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Athos raced back to Paris as if the devil were behind him. The road and landscape passed him by as if a blur. There were small scrapes on his face from when branches brushed his face as he rode, having no time to dodge them all. Treville will know what to do, he always seems to know the correct course of action in situations such as this. Granted there had never been a situation exactly like this to his knowledge, but either way Treville would understand what was at stake and know what to do. It was astonishing to Athos how many people were willing to betray the King, including his own family members. There really were very few people who could be trusted completely in the palace. First the Cardinal, who wasn't a traitor by any means, but had done some fairly terrible things in the name of France.
Then Rochefort had come along and gained the Kings trust to the point of almost killing two of the people Athos cared for most in this world, and The Queen, mother to the heir of his throne.
Not to mention his mother, and two of his brothers, even if he didn't know Governor Feron had actually betrayed him. Now this, now another of his brothers, illegitimate as he may be, has turned his back on his brother and his country. It made Athos sick to his stomach, which after 4 years of war, was saying a lot. He only hoped that this would be the last time, there were few left in the court that had the King's ear, and with Louis's illness, there was little time for anyone to betray him again.

Athos sped on, coming within view of Paris he paused briefly to allow his horse to catch it's breath before he continued on, headed directly for the Palace.

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Aramis was getting bored of this. The Spanish captain had been gloating about his impressive tactics and his ability to command for the last hour. Technically it had only been about 10 minutes, but it had felt like an hour to the kneeling prisoner. The polished, smooth, shiny breastplate the man was wearing told Aramis everything he needed to know about him. Even if he hadn't been ranting about how "Superior" he was to "French scum" Aramis could tell that he had never been in a battle in his life. He only got this commission and title due to his father's money and name. The moment the captain opened his mouth Aramis knew that he was in for a long winded rant from an empty headed, equally empty suited, privileged rich boy, hardly old enough to be called a man.
Still though the moron had been giving Aramis information on troop movements and tactics to prove how "qualified" he was to lead. It was hard to not laugh at the fact that he was learning in the last 10 minutes what had taken him a month to gain access to in Spain. This knowledge however was not missed by the actual soldiers in the room. Antone, Tomas, and Gabriel, were all looking at one another in complete resignation to the fact that the man leading them was an absolute moron. Aramis even caught eyes with Tomas for a moment, who gave him a slight smirk and shook his head in defeat.

The Captain seemed to be finally wrapping up his speech, as he sat back down at his table turned desk, and gestured to Gabriel and returned to his native Spanish tongue.

"Take him to the stable and hold him there until we're ready for him. "

Aramis didn't even have to think about what that meant. What he didn't know was what information they could possibly want from him. It wouldn't take long for him to find out, he was sure. Tomas and Antone grabbed his arms and lifted him to his feet, dragging him out into the daylight once more. They headed to the opposite side of the camp where an old stable stood. It stood further back than most of the buildings and was under the cover of some trees. The entire building was much the same as the others, but as they entered it, Aramis could tell that there was at least one stall rebuilt. Fresh bars were placed in the windows, and the walls were all reinforced with thick slabs of wood. Clearly they had been expecting him, which was a touch disconcerting. There was some straw resting on the ground. At least he wouldn't be sitting on the hard ground alone. It was wet and smelled of mold however, Can't make the prisoners to comfortable before you kill them I guess. It looked strong enough keep a fit and healthy man inside of it, let alone a weak and wounded one. Not that it would stop him from trying, but it would make it far more difficult.

With one last shove Aramis was forced to sit on the ground. Antone reached behind Aramis' head to untie the cloth that was covering his mouth. Gabriel lifted a cup to his lips and Aramis drank without question not wanting to give them any recourse to cause any more physical violence, yet, anyway. He coughed as his throat was not used to the moisture anymore. His hands remained secure behind his back, but as he was drinking the warm water, the rope was secured to an iron chain attached to the only wall left that was made of stone.

Despite his situation he looked Gabriel in the eye as the cup was removed from his lips, "Thank you," Aramis croaked, "for the water. "

A look of surprise crosses Gabriel's features. Not expecting thanks to come from a prisoner but he tilted his head in understanding. "We are not all monsters" he replied in French with only a slight accent. He left the cell with the other two and turned to lock the door.

"Some however," he continued looking Aramis in the eye, with what almost looked like regret, "are more monstrous than others. "
Without another word the three walked out of the stable, leaving Aramis alone.

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Well HERE it is! "YOU'VE DONE YOUR WAITING! 6 MONTHS OF IT!"

*Dodges fists with extraordinary skill*

I'm going to say it one more time, SORRY! I'M SO SORRY. I'm not going to promise to update sooner than last time, but what I can promise is to try to update when I can. I'm still without WiFi so I've resorted to publishing while I'm visiting my parents. ;[) I hope it was at least a little worth the wait. For those of you who have been checking up on me the last several months, THANK YOU! And those of you who read, write reviews, and send messages, you are my life blood!