Double Trouble

Chapter Six: The Storm

The Storm:

Porthos rides furiously toward the tree line with hope that he can retrace the path he took coming out of the forest just hours before. He must try to find the exact place where he exited the tree line if he wants to find Athos quickly. He cannot afford to waste valuable time wandering or searching when Athos's life could be ebbing away.

He stops in front of the tree line at a distance, trying to determine if he recognizes anything. "Damn, I should have paid more attention comin' out of here," he mutters.

He finds a pond that triggers his memory, "I remember this," he said to himself. Porthos enters the forest there to begin his journey back to where he left Athos just hours ago. He crosses a stream, turns left and rides deeper into the forest, hoping he's going the right way.

The light is quickly fading as the day draws to a close, causing Porthos to become irritable, "bloody hell!" he cursed. The Musketeer keeps moving forward despite the added handicap, unwilling to stop. However, when the darkness makes it nearly impossible to see he finally pulls his horse to a stop. "How in the hell do I find Athos in the dark, dammit?"

"I need a torch for light," he says into the darkness. Porthos dismounts his horse to feel around on the ground for sticks and leaf litter to start a fire with. He finds the sticks, and immediately gets started at rubbing them together, using the dead leaves to help kindle the sparks. Once he gets his little fire going, Porthos finds a branch with enough dead leaves and twigs that it should work well for a torch, "I hope I don't set the forest on fire with this thing," he grumbles.

The torch works wonders at lighting up the dark forest, but it also casts strange shadows that appear to dance in the firelight. Porthos is becoming jittery, almost paranoid. He switches the torch to his left hand so he'll be able to reach for his sword at a moment's notice, just in case.

As if the situation wasn't already bad, it began to lightly sprinkle, threatening to douse his needed light source. "Dammit, couldn't you give me some help here?" Porthos yelled up at the sky. "This mission was cursed the minute we hit the road-I've had enough already!" Porthos was letting his pent-up resentment flow in an angry tirade for the constant pounding all four have received since they left Paris. "If you aren't going to help us, then just leave us alone!"

Porthos continued to ride along, zig-zagging through the trees; sometimes dodging low hanging branches, other times getting smacked in the face by an unseen twig. Finally he comes to where the terrain ahead is rocky, alerting Porthos that he must be getting close to where he and Athos parted ways.

Further ahead he spots the outlines of large rocks, and now Porthos knows that he has found the right place. "Hell, now to find Athos," he grunts. Suddenly, terrible thoughts start racing through his mind, what if Athos is not here but is wandering around somewhere else out there? What if he's already at the château? What if he's already dead? "Stop, Porthos," he orders himself. "Get control of yourself."

Porthos's heart catches in his throat when he holds the torch high brightening the dark, rocky landscape. There, right where Athos had her tethered, was Aramis's horse, Belle-her eyes reflecting the light of the fire. "Athos?" he calls into the darkness. "Are you there? Athos answer me, dammit!"

Porthos's heart is pounding in his chest as he brings his horse to a stop. He dismounts, securing his horse to a tree next to Belle. He draws his sword and takes a deep breath before heading into the dark shadows of the rocks. Carefully and quietly he creeps around the landscape looking for signs of Athos.

As he steps around a particularly large rock he stops dead in his tracks. Porthos gasps audibly, his heart thumping in his chest, at the sight of a dead body lying near a tree. He inhales and exhales deeply to steady himself, calming his nerves, before walking to the body with his sword up and ready.