I had thought the worst would be over now that the princess was safe in the protection of the palace. My naivety proved just what a hopeless fancy such thoughts were. Word came tumbling through the palace carried by a courier boy and then filtered down through the stages until finally, word reached us in the queen's apartments. Captain Treville had been shot. For a moment I had sat in a stupor, staring blankly at the servant who had brought the news. Then I was in a flight of movement, and I could not be stopped.
Constance ran to fetch Aramis and d'Artagnan to tell them, but I went straight to collect my things, thinking of Treville and praying that God would keep him alive until I could reach him. I shouted to no one in particular, frightening several servants as my vibrant bellow ordered someone to fetch Professor Lemay to the garrison and not to delay. Someone scuttled away from me, and I continued to run, stopping at my room only to collect my supplies. I took a horse from the stables, shouting ahead to demand a horse be readied but the stableboys were too slow.
They had only just brought out a horse from its stable by the time I had reached them, and I was too afraid to waste a single moment. My heart pulsed and quivered in my chest as I barked at the lads, a small twinge of guilt for their startled expressions as one dropped the rope which was hooked upon the horse's halter. I did not bother to even wait for a saddle. Grasping the horse's mane, I kicked off the ground with all my strength and pulled simultaneously, dragging myself onto its back as it threw back its head in surprise before I had swung one leg over its back. "Ha!" A sharp kick to its flanks, and the horse lunged out of the stables. I rode bareback and without the bridle, holding the mane and rope in my hands but primarily directing the horse with my legs and a tug on the rope, flicking it from one side of the neck to the other depending on which way I needed to turn. "Make way! Make way! MOVE!" I thundered to the people in my path, and they hastened to rush aside.
I galloped into the garrison courtyard before leaning back and tucking my pelvis under me, bringing up the horse's head as it shrieked and reared to stop itself, clattering to a halt as Jacques rushed to take hold of the poor creature. I did not even acknowledge him. "Where is the captain? Where is he?!" Alarmed, Jacques timidly informed me that they were fetching him and were not yet back. Gasping for breath, I allowed myself a moment to compose myself. Squeezing the boy's shoulder, I softened my tone. "See to the horse, take good care of it for me, Jacques." Nodding quickly, Jacques seemed eager to escape me as I began to pace.
Back and forth I went, worrying and fearing for what felt like hours until finally I heard the shouts of the men returning, bearing the captain who's screams of pain were like an agony within me. "Athos!" Calling my brother's name as I rushed forwards, I took one look at the captain. "Hurry, bring him inside!" This could not wait. I did not even acknowledge Porthos or Aramis, who had hastened from the palace as swiftly as I had. Leading the way to the dining hall as it was closest, Porthos shouldered his way inside with a furious bellow to everyone inside.
"Move! Get out the room now!"
"Quickly. Move that chair!" Everything was a rush of motion, whirling around me as I kicked a chair aside and thrust two tables together with Athos and Aramis, brushing against Porthos as I did so. Without meaning to, I grasped his arm for a moment as Treville was brought inside, the breath catching in my throat. I held onto him to steady myself, whimpering in horror to see the captain, the man I viewed as a fatherly figure, to be in such hurt and pain.
"Put him on the table! Gently! Gently!" Counting down, I clamped a hand over my mouth as they lifted Treville onto the table, the movement causing him another bought of pain and I saw blood spill from his mouth. Blood from the mouth was never a good sign. His breaths were rugged and laboured, snatching as if he could barely grasp at the air. My grip tightened upon Porthos and I was dimly aware that he had placed an arm around me. "Captain! Captain, it's Aramis. You're at the garrison." Leaning down beside the captain, Aramis tried to gain his attention to help him focus.
"He was on the Rue Jacob. Nobody saw the attacker," my brother informed us in a hollow voice as I pulled away from Porthos, staggering towards the captain before clapping my own cheeks, forcing myself to focus.
"What was he doing there?"
"Rochefort's errand. Collecting the king's gift from Monsieur Arnaud."
"Convenient that Rochefort passed over his task to another, is it not?" Hissing viciously, I moved Aramis aside to grasp the captain's shirt and tore it with one firm yank, exposing the wound so that I could look upon it. The wound was dark and gaping, a tunnel into the flesh. "It has not passed through," I noted aloud, shaking all dark thoughts and focusing only on what needed to be done.
"We need a surgeon," touching my shoulders to try and draw me away, I thrust Aramis's hands away from me, refusing to leave the captain and instead snatched the vial of spirits he had in his hand, rubbing first my own hands then pouring a little into the captain's wound.
"I have already sent for Lemay, he should be here promptly," focusing on Treville, I removed my belt where I carried my most immediate healing supplies and pulled out linen bandages, beginning to set everything ready. "If he is not here soon, then I shall extract the bullet and seal the wound myself." I was more than capable of doing so in any other circumstances, but with the captain as my patient lying before me, I could not stop the trembling of my hands. "He is…he is struggling to breathe, I dare not risk…damage to his lung, you see…"
"Easy now, my sweet. All will be well," Aramis tried to soothe, but again when he reached to touch my hair I slapped his hand away.
"All will not be well! Why are you not searching for the man responsible? Why are you not all out there, searching?! Someone has shot our captain, this affront cannot go unpunished!" Releasing my voice as a means to carry some of the anguish I bore out into the open air, liberating it from my body, I was overcome with a sob and dropped to my knees, grasping the table as tears blurred my vision. "Captain…dear captain…you must be strong, please…" there was no recognition in the glazed look of Treville's eyes, so I grasped his hand and did not move, praying desperately in my mind.
When Athos touched my shoulder, I did not react, allowing him to stand beside me as I continued my pleading prayers. I was glad I had thought ahead to call for Lemay, for it saved us precious time. He entered, carrying his box of tools and supplies with Constance upon his heel. "Thank God you are here!" I cried out weakly, staggering to my feet before hastily drying my eyes and drawing myself up. "Please, help him."
"I will do what I can," Lemay promised and immediately came to inspect his patient.
"He was shot in the back," Aramis advised as I moved out of Lemay's way, staring unblinkingly at the captain as Constance came to grasp my arm and offer me her comfort. "And the ball's still in there." Looking over the wound, Lemay asked for someone to help lift Treville. Porthos moved, raising the captain high enough for Lemay to look underneath where the shirt remained unblemished by blood, signifying that the bullet had not passed through.
"You're right. There is no exit wound. His uniform must have blunted the shot's impact," he observed. "He's lucky." Seeing the effectiveness of the musketeer uniform, I was all the gladder for it, gladder still that my brother and the others wore theirs almost religiously. "He is struggling for air. Most probably the ball damaged his lung. Our first task is to find and remove it."
"I have some practice with musket wounds, as does Madeleine." Aramis spoke as Lemay prepared to remove the bullet, undressing from his doublet and rolling up his sleeves.
"I bow to your superior experience." Together, Aramis and I began to prepare ourselves, Aramis even gently telling Constance that she did not have to remain as this next part was not going to be pleasant to witness, but she refused to go, citing that Lemay had asked for her assistance.
"Madame Bonacieux's help will be invaluable. She's already saved one life I might have lost," Lemay acknowledged as he brought his tools forward, ready to use them for after the bullet had been extracted. "Boiling water."
"We have already cleaned the wound." Raising my head, I looked to Lemay in surprise as he informed us that the water was not for Treville, but himself.
"It's not for him. It's for my equipment." Never having heard such a thing, I listened with a dim flicker of intrigue which desperately attempted to shine amidst the haunting dread which currently overwhelmed my senses. "I find that if I bathe my instruments in boiling water first, my patients have a much greater chance of fighting off infection. I have no idea why. I believe it is a blessing from God." I will accept any godly blessing we could possibly claim, just so long as Treville lived.
Constance fetched the water and Lemay deftly placed his instruments into the hot liquid. I looked to her, and she nodded encouragingly, being the pillar of strength which I so sorely lacked in that moment. I was grateful for her presence, and after several deep breaths, Aramis turned to me. "Shall I?" In his hand he held the extractors, pincer like hands which would be inserted into the wound to locate and retrieve the bullet. Clenching my fingers, I allowed all the tension I gathered there to collect and ascend until finally, I released it.
"Hold him down," taking the extractor from Aramis I moved firmly forwards, positioning myself beside Treville and resting one hand upon his back. "Someone, give him a belt to bite down upon. I will not have him breaking his teeth." If not only for the complications broken teeth created, it also posed a risk of tooth shards being swallowed and choked upon. Lemay promptly supplied a strip of thick leather exactly for this purpose and it was placed in Treville's mouth, muffling his sounds as Athos, Aramis and Porthos gathered around, each putting their hands upon the captain's limbs as well as his shoulders to keep him still. "Alright, be ready." Pausing for only a moment, I studied the wound as I dropped the extractors into the boiling water as Lemay had suggested, drying them after several moments of submersion.
From experience and practice, I was able to reach into the wound and go directly towards the bullet, judging what was flesh and bone from feel alone until I felt the extractors touch something solid which should not have been there. Treville screamed when I stretched the flesh to ease the extractors around the bullet, convulsing and shuddering from agony as I held onto my purpose. It sickened me to see him in such a state, nausea permeating my stomach and several times I felt the hot lash of tears gathering.
Moving with practiced precision, I pulled the bullet free, whole and unfettered. Holding it to the light, I inspected it for a moment before tossing it aside into the bowl of water along with the extractors, using a fresh linen bandage to cover the now oozing wound. I cleaned it swiftly, hands darting this way and that to cover the injury before bad odours could permeate it and cause infection. No one truly knew what caused infections, at best all we knew was that there was something in the air which caused wounds to fester if left uncleaned and uncovered. As Treville laboured for air, groaning in pain, I stepped aside and allowed Lemay to take over.
I wrapped one arm around myself as if to offer myself an embrace, one hand pressed over my mouth to choke back the temptation to expel the contents of my stomach. "There is fluid in his lung," Lemay finally pronounced, having bent to listen to Treville's obstructed breathing. "We have to drain it." Drain it?
"How?" Constance questioned whilst I feared the answer.
"Much the same way one would drain a keg of wine." Retching at the image of fluid being drained out of Treville's body like a keg of wine, I turned aside and could bring myself to look no further, dizzy and lightheaded as Aramis spoke, stating that he had not the skill for such a thing and passed the care of the captain into Lemay's hands. "I need him on his back." I could not look, flinching with every cry of agony the captain released, tears now overflowing as I faced the wall and did not dare turn. "Be ready to collect the blood." I could not look. I could not.
Shuddering and stifling my own weeping, I suddenly felt someone step around in front of me before a pair of large, sheltering arms grasped me tightly. I was pulled into a familiar chest, heard the pace of an endearing heartbeat, and despite everything, I felt myself relax a little as Porthos held me in his arms. A hand splayed itself against my back, the other curled around my head to hold me firmly yet tenderly, as if to shield me from the horrible nightmare which was unfolding behind me. "I've got you," I heard him whisper, quiet and mellow. "I've got you, sweetheart."
"Porthos," the pathetic mewl of my voice was an embarrassment, but it was all I could muster. Being too cowardly to watch the operation itself, all I could do was hide against Porthos and listen, focusing on the captain's ragged breaths until slowly, gradually, they began to ease. The breaths became deeper and unlaboured, without the sound of the captain drowning in his own lungs.
"Secure that with a dressing," Lemay instructed and I quickly looked about, staring at the captain as Lemay stepped aside. "Let all the fluid drain out before stitching the wound. Your captain should make a speedy recovery now." A sob of relief was my answer, fingers gripping onto Porthos before a breathless smile alit my face. I looked to him, flushed and teary, but so relieved I could not help but want to dance and sing with joy. Although having offered me comfort, Porthos only managed a tense, uneasy smile in return. It snapped me to my senses, the distant expression dousing all brightness within until it was only a dim glow.
I released him. A look of shame crossed my features and I hastened to try and dry my cheeks with the back of my hand. "Forgive me," unable to think of what else to say, I hastened to turn aside and went to the captain, leaning over him as I stroked back his hair and turned my full and undivided attention upon him. "I can never thank you enough, Lemay." Glancing to the surgeon, the gratitude could not express itself enough by expression alone. He would never understand the depths of my respect and gratefulness for his actions. "If we were to lose him…"
"He is a fortunate man to be held in such high esteem, my lady. I was simply doing my duty," gracious and humble, I smiled shakily at Lemay before returning to the captain, moving around the table to Constance so that I could take the bowl from her and catch the fluid, wanting also to take a look at what Lemay had done. A small incision, wide enough only for the tube which was placed inside the captain, all the way into his lung which allowed the fluid to drain itself so that he could breathe. Incredible.
Constance went to Lemay, as grateful as I, and just as impressed as she told him that he had saved Treville's life, without a shadow of a doubt. "It was a team effort," he insisted, "but yes, I believe we did." As the fluid began to slow from a steady trickle to regular drops, I reached across to take up a cloth and wetted it so that I could begin to clean Treville's face, wanting to remove the blood as Athos, Porthos and Aramis all stood around him.
"Whoever did this to the captain is going to have to deal with me personally." Porthos growled, and I glanced to him with a steady façade falling into place.
"You will have to get in line, dear Porthos." At this, my brother strode away, shoulders tense with anger as he reached for the door. Porthos asked where he was going, head turning quickly as Athos replied curtly that he was going to find out what he could about the gift Treville had been sent to fetch.
"Whoever shot him knew where to find him." Immediately Porthos straightened to follow, reaching across the table where Aramis passed him his sword and belt.
"I'll stay here." His hand brushed against my back and this time, I did not reject him, even feeling guilty for refusing him before. "Has the fluid finished draining?" Speaking softly, Aramis brushed aside my hair as he looked not at the captain, but upon me. I could feel the concern from his gaze, the drifting worry for my wellbeing as I continued to watch over the captain. Unable to speak, I shook my head. The water was still dripping.
Lemay took his leave but assured us that we could call upon him should we need, Constance walking him to the garrison entrance. When the final drip of fluid hitting the bowl sounded and was not followed by another for some time, we determined that it was safe to close the wounds. "We should…follow Lemay's instruction," I finally gasped. "Secure the tube with a dressing, I suspect to prevent from further fluid building…then we can see to closing the bullet wound." Nodding his head, Aramis and I set to work.
He held the captain upright as I quickly washed down the table from his blood and covered it with a clean blanket so that he had something more comfortable than solid wood to lay against. We secured the tube, wrapping linen and bandages around it to hold it in place before I set to work on the captain's shoulder. By now he had drifted into unconsciousness, and I was glad for it, as I did not wish to think of him in pain. My hands were now steady, calmly threading my needle and closing the wound with stitches into the flesh to hold the partition closed, then stitching the upper layer together so that the wound would hold shut.
I bound the wound, kissed my fingers then lay them over the clean bandages, whispering. "A kiss for a swift recovery." With nothing more that we could do at present, Aramis and I gathered some men and had them take the captain to his room, Constance returning and insisting that she would clear everything away. "Are you certain? I should…"
"You look like death yourself, Madeleine," she told me kindly, pressing the back of her hand to my brow. "Go and sit with him, or lie down for a while. You've had a terrible fright." My throat throbbed, and I struggled for air.
"You are too good to me, Constance."
"Nonsense, now go. I'll manage." Taking her advice, I sat with the captain and watched over him, Aramis returning to the palace after ensuring that I was well myself. I sat and I listened to every breath the captain took, lingering upon each one whilst fearing it would be his last. The tube expelled more fluid into the bowl I had lain beside the captain, having removed his pillows to lay him flat upon his bed so that his lung would drain more easily. Several times I cried in the silence, miserable and fearful, but joyful also. Lemay was confident the captain would recover, and I knew him to be as tough as old leather. He would survive this.
Eventually he stirred, eyes flickering and immediately I leaned forwards. His eyes opened, blinking against the light before focusing. "Madeleine…" the soft exhale was the sweetest sound I had ever heard, and I burst with a beaming sob.
"Captain…oh captain…do not frighten me so!" When he stretched out a hand I swiftly took it, not wanting for him to exert too much of his precious strength. "You will live, we extracted the bullet and drained your lung of fluid…Lemay was a wonder, we could not have saved you without him."
"I shall have to thank him," Treville hummed weakly, fingers attempting to squeeze my own. "Do not cry, little one. Everything is alright now." Shuddering, I bowed over his hand and kissed it firmly, thinking just how close everything had come to not being alright. I did not care about anything else. I did not care about assassins or the deceit, I did not care that Rochefort was named First Minister, I did not even care that Bonacieux was killed by one of the assassins and left Constance a widow. All that mattered was that the captain continued to breathe, for he was the only image of a father I possessed, and I loved him as dearly as I loved anyone else who was precious to me.