Chapter Two

Athos turned in time to see d'Artagnan fall over the side of the bridge. He was sure his heart stopped beating for a few seconds. The newest member of their little gang was the first to die. And in such a pointless way. He always expected to lose some or all of his closest friends in battle. He never doubted for a moment that they would all reach old age. But for d'Artagnan to be taken from them now, on what should have been a simple mission was too horrible to contemplate.

The man Aramis had shot, staggered a few paces to his right before falling backwards over the side of the bridge. Aramis slowly walked over to the edge of the bridge. Athos found he could not move. He wanted to join Aramis, felt that he should, but the ability to walk continued to evade him. He blinked back tears.

D'Artagnan was dead.

If not dead, mortally wounded. The fall could not be survived, he knew that. The rocky sides and bottom of the natural moat would have cut the unfortunate musketeer to pieces as he fell. Athos hated himself for hoping the young man's death had been swift.

Aramis had reached the edge of the bridge, Athos was shocked to see the marksman jump up onto the low wall and then jump down on the other side. His friend was not thinking straight, had he just thrown himself to his own death?

No. Aramis was standing on the other side of the wall looking down at something. Athos rushed forward.

MMMM

As Aramis had slowly walked towards the edge of the bridge he had readied himself for the sight. He had seen dead friends before. Their faces forever etched on his memory. He did not want to add d'Artagnan to that list but knew he had to. He owed it to his friend. If the poor man was still alive, Aramis was not about to leave him to die alone. He would find a way to reach his side and stay with him until the end.

The rocky landscape came into view, dropping rapidly away like a cliff top. But, at this end of the bridge he realised the low wall stretched several meters from the gaping maw of the ravine. There was solid ground beyond the low wall. Aramis stepped up onto the wall. He wavered for a second, as a feeling of faintness washed over him.

D'Artagnan was not dead.

The young man was lying, flat on his back, staring at the sky. He was not moving, other than breathing quickly. He was deathly pale.

Aramis jumped down and took a step forwards before kneeling by his brother.

'D'Artagnan?'

The man did not respond, he just continued to breath, quick panting breathes.

'D'Artagnan?' said Aramis a little louder.

He still did not get a response. Aramis leaned forward, putting himself in his friend's vision. D'Artagnan did not move, his eyes remained unfocused, gazing upwards, staring at nothing. Aramis reached out his hands and gently took the man's shoulders and squeezed them.

'Can you hear me? D'Artagnan, look at me.'

Aramis released the younger man and took his hand in his own instead.

'D'Artagnan can you squeeze my hand? Just show me that you can hear me?'

Still nothing. Aramis was aware of movement behind him. Athos and a very ashen looking Porthos were stood behind him watching.

'He thinks he's fallen,' said Aramis before turning back to their still friend, 'd'Artagnan, you're safe…you only fell a couple of feet. D'Artagnan, look at me?'

Very slowly d'Artagnan managed to refocus his eyes on Aramis' and squeezed the hand that held his at the same time.

'I'm not dead?'

D'Artagnan's voice was quiet and shaky.

Aramis smiled at him, 'no, my friend, you are not dead…you are very much alive…'

D'Artagnan went back to staring at the sky.

'Can you sit up?'

D'Artagnan looked at Aramis again and nodded very slightly. Aramis leaned forwards and gently slipped his arm behind the young musketeer's shoulders pulling him slowly into a sitting position.

MMMM

Porthos turned his back on d'Artagnan and sat heavily on the wall. He felt Athos rest his hand on his shoulder and squeeze. Porthos was struggling to hold back tears.

When he had seen the younger man fall he had not known what to do with himself. It was not until Athos had grabbed his arm and led him forward that he had been able to move again. When they had reached the spot where they could see d'Artagnan, prone on the ground with a very concerned Aramis leaning over him, trying to coax a reaction from the man, Porthos still did not know what to do with himself. What if d'Artagnan was badly injured? Even the short distance he had fallen could prove disastrous.

As Aramis encouraged their friend to sit up, Porthos found he had to sit down. He was aware of Aramis talking quietly to d'Artagnan behind him. He managed to twist around as Athos stepped over the low wall and took d'Artagnan by the arm and helped Aramis to pull the man up. They supported most of his weight as the shaking man was walked forward and helped to step back over onto the safer side of the wall. Porthos reached his arm around his friend and gently pulled d'Artagnan toward him in a brotherly embrace. The young man was still breathing fast and shaking.

'Shh…it's OK now. We've got you,' said Porthos quietly as he watched Athos walk across the bridge.

Aramis crouched down in front of them both.

'It's OK, you'll stop shaking in a few minutes…Probably about the same time we stop shaking as well,' said Aramis with a smile, 'Athos has gone to get you some water.'

Porthos glanced back towards the chateaux. There was no sign of anyone else following them. Athos returned with a water skin and after removing the stopper held it out to d'Artagnan. Porthos was relieved to see the young man take the skin himself and although he was still shaking he managed to take a drink without aid.

'Help me get the horses ready. The sooner we leave the better,' said Athos, as he too glanced towards the chateaux.

Porthos helped d'Artagnan to stand and let Aramis take over shepherding duties as he hastened to catch up with Athos. He glanced back and saw Aramis walking slowly with d'Artagnan who although still very pale was walking more of less normally.

MMMM

As he settled his breathing d'Artagnan glanced back to the spot on the bridge he had fallen over. He still could not quite believe he was not dead. The man he had been fighting had fallen a few feet from his position and was now dashed across the rocks at the bottom. He had been very lucky.

Aramis held him a little tighter, 'don't dwell on it. It won't be your only near miss.'

'I really thought that was it,' d'Artagnan replied.

'So did we. I think Porthos was crying. Athos was certainly holding back tears…don't tell them that though. We are manly Musketeers who are not supposed to show emotion.'

D'Artagnan managed to chuckle as they continued to walk across the bridge. By the time they reached the horses he was walking on his own, although he was aware of Aramis remaining very close by and watching him carefully.

'Will you be alright to ride?' asked Athos, no hint of emotion in his voice, d'Artagnan realised how good he was at hiding how he really felt. D'Artagnan stole a quick glance at Aramis who raised his eyebrows knowingly.

'I think so.'

'Think?' said Porthos. D'Artagnan again glanced at Aramis who struggled to hide a smirk, Porthos' eyes were red where he must have wiped away the tears.

'I'll be fine…and you will all keep an eye on me anyway,' d'Artagnan said as he looked around at them all.

'That we will,' said Aramis slapping him across the back, causing the younger man to wince.

'Perhaps you could restrain from breaking him, now that we have him back from the dead?' suggested Athos with a shake of his head.

Suitably admonished Aramis turned back to d'Artagnan who was looking at his horse with a little trepidation.

'Now, if I help you up, are you going to stay up?' asked Aramis indicating the waiting horse.

Porthos and Athos, who had both mounted, watched with concern. D'Artagnan looked at them each, knowing they all had his best interests at heart.

'I'm fine now,' said d'Artagnan with exasperation, 'I don't intend to fall off anything again. Ever. Once was enough, thanks.'

'Once was enough for us as well,' remarked Porthos.

The End