, , , Showing the tension of the last long minutes, d’Artagnan asked, “Do you think he will survive, miss Laurel?”
“He was very lucky. The ball did very little damage overall, and I think he’s got a very good chance,” he replied honestly. “He’s a strong man and in good shape. I think we were able to stop the bleeding and get that ball out on time. As long as we can keep it from getting worse, he should be alive. We have to go tomorrow.” should have known better.”
Three gunmen surveyed the exhausted woman, and Aramis offered her his hand. ,Madam, you look totally expendable. Maybe I can take you to some place where you can cleanse yourself and get some sleep.” She nodded and got tired of her feet. It was dimly recorded that this was the first time she really appreciated Of, even liked, the purity of the cultivation of Aramis.So very stable and reliable, even though it might hide just how dangerous the man can be.
Just before the couple left the room, Laurel informs them, “Oh, and given that it would be extremely awkward to interpret a woman’s appearance, I suggest you remember to refer to me as Christophe all the time.” Keep it.” With a parting reminder, he and Aramis left the room.
,
“Christophe.” A voice came from afar, pulling the young woman out of her deep and dreamless sleep. She rolled over on the bed, deciding that it was only her imagination and that she could go back to sleep. No – on second thought she was not awake, but dreaming, and an unpleasant one at that. However, the noise did not subside, and a hand grabbed his shoulder and gently woke him up. “Christophe.”
“I’m awake. I’m awake,” she protested, sitting down and focusing on D’Artagnan with her eyes open. “what do you want?” He asked yawning. The urge to fall behind on the pillow was very tempting. She began to sink back and then shook herself.
“Athos is calling you.”
She groaned in the back of her throat. “It’s nice to know I’m so wanted,” she murmured. Rather it should not be desired now. Some days she hated mornings more than others. It was one of those days. “I guess it means I’m getting up now.”
D’Artagnan got up, preparing to leave the room and allowing him to get ready for some privacy. “Don’t be upset,” Laurel interrupted him. “I sleep fully clothed. It’s safer that way.” The woman checked herself to assure that the tightly wound bun was still there. “If you give me my shoes and hat,” she said, half swinging out of bed, “I’ll go with you now.”
He pulled off one boot first and then the other and put the cap on his head. “Okay, how am I looking?”
“I don’t know how you do it,” the youngest musketeer addressed him. “You look exactly like a boy, especially when no one can see your face very clearly or can only see you from afar.”
“I should expect it. My life depends on it, and I’ve practiced enough that I’ve perfected the costume and mannerisms. Is there anything wrong with Ethos?”
The soldier shook his head in a hurry and raised his hands in front of him. “No. Well, other than a bad headache and fatigue he seems fine.” D’Artagnan postponed his next question. “He insists on seeing you. I think he wants to see what happened last night and find out what he found himself.”
“Wait a second,” protested Laurel as he closed the door behind them. “Those guys had nothing to do with me last night. They knew where they were going, and they headed straight to Athos’ room. I’m willing to bet those guys had to kill Athos was hired, which means there’s a new enemy in the picture. Or maybe even an old one.” Old rivalries had a way of coming back to haunt the present.
,
Athos was an incredibly lucky man, even more fortunate than Laurel initially thought. The fever gripped him for only a day and then he began to recover exceptionally fast under the close supervision of his friends.
The wound healed as each day passed, showing no signs of infection or severe scarring. It wasn’t long — less than two weeks — before the oldest musketeer was starting to get back to his routine, and he became eager to move on and complete the mission. His country and his king depended on him, and time was limited. A lot had already been wasted.
After days of ministering to his friends he sent them off, wrapped the wound himself and then completely dressed himself, and on his own. Shortly thereafter he became strong enough to take his horse for a short ride. In fact, he was just coming off that ride when he almost ran into Laurel. He hastily apologized to her and then separated her from the audience. “I can’t believe I’ve thanked you yet. I give you my life and my arm. Thank you,
“You’re welcome,” said the woman politely, as if trying to divert the subject. “Though I believe we still are. As I remember, you probably saved my life in Marseille.” She retreated and went back to the door that led to the stables when Athos spoke. “Christophe, how did you know what to do to save me?”
Laurel turned and headed for Athos. “When my father took me to work, many times we were around people who were shot or wounded in the line of duty.” After all, there was a war going on across Europe, and she had been hit many times by it. “Nor were there too many doctors available, and every healthy person was expected to lend a hand.”
“Didn’t your father try to keep you away from it?”
“She must have attracted undue attention to prevent her own son from helping wounded men. Basically from my twelfth year I started doctoring wounded men. I saw firsthand what to do in any situation and What didn’t. By the time I was six and ten years old, my father and I had saved more lives than any doctor in the field. And do you want to know why?”
“Why?” Athos questioned, sincerely interested, surprised himself at the question. , , ,
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